Last week I had to go to my mother's bank to sort something out. Thus it was that I entered into a sort of Escheresque landscape...

I used to bank there myself, but it is so dreadful I thought, in the end, I could do without the stress.

Anyway, before I went I ascertained what I would need by way of documentation. Of course, when I arrived, I was told that I needed something else. Here's how the conversation (well, some of it), went: