"Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day, signed Henry," the girl at the service counter read the report from the last tour guide to come in.
"Doh!" she thought, not experienced enough to know if this was an unusual report or not. But then, everything was unusual today, of all days. She had found the report on the counter, the guide Henry having already disappeared. She filed it in the blue box resting on the counter. Then she looked up as a grim-looking man stomped through from the Arrivals area.
"Thank God you're back, we're just closing up," she said.
The girl was alone, the lights in the offices behind her already in darkness.
"That's all very well," the tall red-turbaned excursion-traveller retorted, "I want to deliver in the strongest possible terms a complaint about the cavalier attitude of your tour guide, Henry."
"I think that's probably rather academic, sir, we are closing up for good and you are the last ever excursion to return," the girl smiled sweetly, adding, "Safely, I might add."
"That's hardly the right attitude young lady," he spluttered, "I will take your name and report you to your superior."
"Rebecca, sir," for some reason unknown to Rebecca, she genuflected ever so slightly, no doubt intimidated by this imposing man, still wearing the historic priestly robes appropriate to his excursion.
"Ah, Jewish, are you girl?" he sneered, "I thought as much."
"No, we're Lutheran, but don't practice as often as we should." Rebecca busied herself putting plastic files and the desk equipment into the blue box, "Not many do nowadays."
"Well, these are the times we live in, I suppose," he continued, crisply, "Aren't you going to fill in a complaint form or something?"
"Of course," she said, pulling open a drawer in the desk, putting on an uncertain smile, a little flustered as all the drawers had already been emptied. She started looking through the blue box, "Sorry, I think they are in here somewhere, I haven't been here long and everyone else has gone. Just Security left, checking through the building before we close up for good."
"Sorry, my dear, for snapping at you," the tall man replied, "It was wrong of me to be so short with you. It's all the fault of the tour guide and he seems to have completely disappeared."
"Ah, here it is, sir," Rebecca smiled, smoothing out the slightly creased form on the table and extracting a pen from the box. "Right, today's date is 24th December -"
