Worst _______ Ever

Last night I dreamed up the worst consumer service ever. It was very clear in my demented little dream world that this was being touted as a luxury service, and people fully knew the details before signing up.

Here's how it would work: you would sign up daily wake-up calls. Tell them that you need to be up at 8 on Monday, and then they'd call you on Monday and tell you to get up. Like a hotel, only without the actual hotel bit.

The catch was that you had to, by the time you hung up the phone, sound perfectly awake and polite to the caller waking you up. Why? Hell if I know. If you weren't, they'd call again in five minutes. If you still were groggy or grumpy, they'd call a third time, again after five minutes. If you still weren't chipper at that point, they would call the police, who would possibly but not definitely come to your house and take you away to a "social reprogramming facility".

I also know I dreamed about ballet dancers in big foam dinosaur costumes, and flatbed trucks carrying loads of thousands of balloons. Both of these were either just outside or upstairs from* a public library that I belonged to in London. I don't know if these were connected to the wakeup call/secret police service.

*Which is not possible, as the library took up all three floors of the building, but I think that's kind of a minor point, really.