And you thought that Rab C Nesbitt was fictional?

A wee Scottish man approaches library desk, reeking of booze, it's 11am "I need to copy these" he says thrusting a pile of papers in my face "Yes, fine" "Ah yer Scottish, where are you from" - a loaded question? - "Glasgow", I say and walk towards the photocopier, he stumbles after me deposits money in the coin box and hands me the papers. They are all sick notes!!!