I just got surveyed, outside a London tube station. Three cute young ladies accosted me: did I have a minute to help with their sixth-form project? I was glad to assist with their educational development, as you might imagine.

The questions turned out to be none too demanding:

- Do you live locally? (In London? Nope, can’t afford it.)

- Are you here for business or pleasure? (Well, it was business, until you stopped me.)

- How did I get here? (What? In life? Long story. Oh - you mean this morning? Duh, the fact I’d just come up the escalator from the tube station might give you a clue.)

- Do you come here regularly? (Nice to see them practising their chat-up lines…)

- Do you believe that we are dressed smartly enough? (Bring back uniforms, I say! Ties, blazers and smart skirts all round…)

- Do you believe in corporal punishment? (Allow me to introduce myself…)

- When did you last administer a caning? (Er, at the weekend. Does the sound thrashing with a belt that I meted out in a hotel last night count?)

- How long are you staying in this area today? (How long do we need? Ten minutes for the discussion of your behaviour, five minutes each for your punishment…?)

- Would you like to pass any comments on our conduct back to our Headmaster? (The girls were most slovenly and disrespectful, and need to be dealt with severely).

Well, their survey went something like that. I may have drifted off into reverie on just a few of the points…

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