Car

Let's just assume for a moment that someone you dislike intensely is humming 'Scarborough Fair' in a really, really annoying and insistent way. And that you react by shoving a broken child's plastic descant recorder up their nose with some considerable force so that it is stuck there. And that you then plug their mouth with a dead stoat.

Now let us postulate that you have recorded the subsequent attempt to continue humming that tune using a microphone without a pop-shield that is in turn fed through a fuzz-box. And that you crank up the amplified result of the whole wonderful set-up through a hundred-watt Marshall guitar amp.

You are starting to get an idea of just how unbelievably annoying Al Habtoor Motors' Sharjah Service Centre's music on hold is.

Once you get through the frantic parpings of Simon and Garfunkle's VL-Tone Greats, you get automatically routed to an extension that is permanently engaged. Dialling zero means being routed to a resentful-sounding individual who will then consign you, with no sign of having a guilty conscience, to whole minutes of Scarborough Hell. And then you get the service centre man. Which is where the fun really starts.

"Hello."
"Hello."
"Hello."
"Hello."
"Look, let's just take the hello as read, shall we?"
"Sorry?"
"Never mind. I want to book my car for a service."
"AC not working?"
"No. Service."
"Yes, this service centre."
"I know that. I want to book for service."
"You want for service?"
"YES!"
"OK. You must call to make booking."
"I AM CALLING TO MAKE A BOOKING!"
"Hello?"

You get the gist. But let me assure you that this conversation goes on for a long, long time. I do love it when service time comes around. Not.