Random reminder

Press, 4 August 1981, Page 24

Random reminder

LIBERTY IS NOT LICENCE

Gidday. Is this the Marriage Licence place? Yes, sir; this is the Registry of Births, Deaths, Race, Ethnic Origin, Marriages, Confusion, and Obfuscation. Yeah, thought so. You are the mob that claimed we wouldn’t get the family benefit unless we admitted having 3/sths of 5/Bths of a Ukrainian great-aunt. Quite possibly, sir. We have a legal obligation. Maybe. Anyhow, what we want now is a marriage licence. Very well. sir. There are certain formalities. . . Here’s your fifteen dollars. And form R.G. 60. And form E.R.O.E. 6. Anything else? I must say that everything appears to be in order. Hang on! “Teacher"? We can't accept “teacher." What kind of teacher are you, sir? Primary? Secondary? Kindergarten. Men can’t be... You’re trying to upset our computer. .. I can’t. . Men can. I am. It won’t. And you will. Yessir. Oh, look. I’m terribly sorry. No divorce papers. Round the corner. High Court. Come back tomorrow. Goodbye. One moment. You ARE the Registry of Marriages? Yes. And divorces? Yes, actually. So why don’t you look us up in your comprehensive files?

Because, sir, all our files are in Wellington. Haven't you even a list of Christchurch divorces — something like the Christchurch telephone book? Oh, no, sir. It is all computerised in Lower Hutt. So why don’t you sit down at a computer terminal and confirm our divorces in flashing green lights? Frightfully sorry, sir. Our only computer link is with Wanganui. Here is a two-dollar note. Telephone somebody in Upper Hutt. . . Lower Hutt, actually, sir. . . . Lower Hutt, then. Well? I am afraid that would be quite improper, sir. We require documentary evidence of the divorces. You have an hour, sir, to get to Armagh St, to the High Court. They close at four. So do we. Good afternoon, sir. Come back tomorrow. (Pedal pedal pedal) Gidday. Found you at last, round the back and three flights up. May I have documentary confirmation of this and that? Certainly, sir. Oh. Your briefcase is not pigskin and the clasps are merely brass. What firm are you with? Wait — you are not an, er, a private citizen, are you? Yes. Sorry. We shut at three, for the public, and it is now ten minutes past.