Special category

I am a huge fan of cartoons. Wren and Stimpy, Cow and Chicken type cartoons, and lets not forget Disney, probably my first cartoon experience, Jungle Book or Bambi. So today was an ambition fulfilled, to drop into conversation a direct quote from Lilo and Stitch, the only Disney cartoon I know with a Social Worker in it. As I still need to do a bit of paid work from time to time, to keep the wolf from the threshold, I have now risen to the dizzy heights of consultant. I thought I was a Social Worker, but the last two days in a town several counties away, which meant staying in a hotel the was similar to Bates' Motel but less gore (indications that I should have pulled the eject handle and left the hotel came early on when A) I was offered a room in the caravan instead of the main building, B) The Rottweiler had a muzzle C) The receptionist asked if I had seen the hotel on Hotel Inspectors, a reality TV programme where experts sort out crap hotels, and D) There were portraits of large Puffins everywhere) I have been a consultant, and give advice to other professionals about their decision making. I didn't call myself a consultant, they started it, the ones paying for me to be there. The car park attendant waved me in through the barrier, you re the consultant they spoke about yesterday he smiled and gave me my own parking space. The receptionist phoned an office several miles of corridor away, the consultants here. Ego suitably massaged I was given a high security pass and allowed to roam the building where mere mortals fear to tread. Later when introductions were made over coffee and croissants in a very plush office suite I identified myself and my role, "I'm a Social Worker, special category, they send me when things have gone wrong, and things have indeed gone wrong"
Ambition fulfilled.