A rather Kafkaesque moment this afternoon.
Seeking a place to read a tedious document, I found an unoccupied meeting room in the old building. It's a large oak panelled chamber, with a large ovoid table and many chairs, which before the war would have been full of chain-smoking town planners plotting against the tax payers.
It is now actually a pleasantly cool space to work in relative quiet.
Ten minutes into my sojourn, a strident middle-age women with an eton crop marched in around the table and stood opposite me, where she barked out "Hate Crime!"
I was a little taken aback, until it occured to me that the room was probably booked for a meeting, and that I should leave.
As I did so, a group of retro-lesbians arrived, enquired "Hate Crime?" then looked me up and down, mentally castrating me, before brushing me aside and slamming the door behind them.
Now that hasn't happened for a long time; I felt almost nostalgic.
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