Although I work in the city centre, I don’t often get out to the shops being too busy working through. But I had no choice today — I’d run out my favourite aftershave, Fahrenheit, and I can’t leave the house without my smelly. (I tell you, if my life was a movie, it would go straight to video.)
Now I’m used to being accosted by Big Issue sellers every ten yards, or bogus researchers who are really trying to flog you something, or genuine researchers who want you to spend 15 minutes answering personal questions while the world passes by. But what I haven’t had before was the bunch of disreputable looking lads with blue clipboards asking: “Had an accident or injury?”
Our no win/no fee compo culture really gets me down. If something goes wrong, it has to be someone’s fault, because where there’s fault, there’s money. Cash from the insurance companies, the town hall, the NHS, you name it.
Those who say: “They’re working the system and if they can make a few grand good luck to ’em,” are deluding themselves. The compensation doesn’t appear from some magical pot of cash; it comes straight out of our back pockets.
That whiplash claim against the insurance company means higher premiums for the rest of us; that trip over a broken flagstone means more from us in rates; and that £10k in medical negligence means half a nurse less on the wards.
The problem is the legal profession, of course. Ever since the restrictions they had on advertising were lifted, things have got progressively worse. I’m not sure if this a genie that be put back in the bottle other than by extreme measures.
Which reminds me: What do you call two lawyers at the bottom of the sea? A good start.