A nice young man (andrea’s description – not my own) rings to sell us the merits of a government scheme for insulating our loft. On learning that andrea is not the man about the house, he ventures that he should speak to “her husband”, who is probably better acquainted with the loft than she is.
Possibly true, as andrea has an intense dislike of crawling around in confined spaces, but perhaps a bit of a stretch.
So andrea agrees, whilst pointing out that I’m not her husband, but her partner: that I’m not a bloke, but a woman – and my name is “Jane”.
Oh. That’s fine, the young man responds: “I’ll call him back later”.
Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!