*The first couple of house calls had not gone well. Peter was used to people having at least some idea who he was; knocking on the door and being met with complete disinterest was a by now unfamiliar enough experience to (temporarily) knock him off his game. He'd also forgotten just howbackwards socially conservative some parts of the country still were about issues that any sensible person would have moved on from a long time ago. His almost reflexive tendency to defend the EU didn't help either. It was difficult.
By house number three he was beginning to get back into the swing of things - no cheque but a promise to consider sending one. House four was tech savvy enough to do an online bank transfer within about thirty minutes, and house five was a lovely little old lady who remembered Bercow fondly from one of his early campaigns and who wrote out a cheque with considerably more zeros on it than Peter had dared hope for.
All in all, a good morning and Peter felt justified taking an early lunch break at a local pub - as much to deal with the effects of drinking so much tea at each house as anything else.
He left at one. The sun was high in the sky and the occupier of the final house on his list was out in the garden tending the rose bushes. They chatted for a little while over the garden fence, but it wasn't until the man's wife came out that Peter managed to actually get another cheque signed.
By then there was just enough time to drive back to John's constituency office (Peter technically wasn't on the insurance but in this sort of place that was unlikely to be an issue) and deposit both cheques in one of the smallest branch offices he'd ever seen. It was with a rather smug smile that he ambled into the constituency office clutching a receipt showing deposits worth over £13,000.*
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
Re: Buckingham Constituency Office - a little after 2pm
Date: 2015-04-23 02:20 pm (UTC)backwardssocially conservative some parts of the country still were about issues that any sensible person would have moved on from a long time ago. His almost reflexive tendency to defend the EU didn't help either. It was difficult.By house number three he was beginning to get back into the swing of things - no cheque but a promise to consider sending one. House four was tech savvy enough to do an online bank transfer within about thirty minutes, and house five was a lovely little old lady who remembered Bercow fondly from one of his early campaigns and who wrote out a cheque with considerably more zeros on it than Peter had dared hope for.
All in all, a good morning and Peter felt justified taking an early lunch break at a local pub - as much to deal with the effects of drinking so much tea at each house as anything else.
He left at one. The sun was high in the sky and the occupier of the final house on his list was out in the garden tending the rose bushes. They chatted for a little while over the garden fence, but it wasn't until the man's wife came out that Peter managed to actually get another cheque signed.
By then there was just enough time to drive back to John's constituency office (Peter technically wasn't on the insurance but in this sort of place that was unlikely to be an issue) and deposit both cheques in one of the smallest branch offices he'd ever seen. It was with a rather smug smile that he ambled into the constituency office clutching a receipt showing deposits worth over £13,000.*