And in breaking news, I'm just getting plagued by endless Payment Protection Insurance phone calls. It never seems to stop. Every time I pick up the phone I get someone at the other end offering to get me back thousands of pounds of mis-sold PPI. You're just about to step out of the door, or get into the bath, or settle down for an evening meal, when the phone rings.
"Ah ha!" I say to myself. "That will be someone important wanting to speak to a celebrity, Christian writer like me."
Who should it turn out to be but another PPI compensation salesman. In several cases it's even the same person who mis-sold me the PPI in the first place and now works as a misselling consultant for a claims firm.
I mostly ignore them, after all I've got plenty of money anyway. Then the other day, this charming young girl called. Her smile was as radiant as the noon day sun. Her eyes sparkled with youthful, nubile delight. Her long brown hair smelled of summer roses and was soft to my gentle touch. She wanted to claim insurance back for me, for me!
"Oh, yes, yes, please," I said. "Anything! Let us make sweet, legally binding contracts together."
Yes, I know I could have claimed my money back for the cost of a postage stamp but I'm a professional writer. I don't just go around writing letters for free, prostituting my talent for the benefit of greedy financial institutions. Besides, we Christians are a sceptical lot. It warns us in the Big Book of Magic Stuff to be wary of those who make wildly implausible promises based on flimsy and extremely unlikely evidence. You won't find us being so easily scammed by telephone sales people. We know that they'll get theirs in the invisible magic afterlife, just like the New Tasty mint says.
But you can take all this scepticism too far. We have to rebuilt trust in our banks and that has to start somewhere. The alternative is that this sweet, innocent young girl was only interested in 30% of my compensation.