I went to church this morning. The service ended at 11.20am, and these were the things I was asked between 11.20am and noon:

Immediately as the service finished I turned round to speak to the person sitting next to me, who I think was a first-time visitor. Before I'd managed to speak I was stopped by the church treasurer, who asked me to sign some cheques right now because he had to leave. I got up to do so, while at the same time attempting to convey via the medium of international gestures that someone else should say hello to the visitor.

As I signed the cheques, someone walked up carrying a large bronze cross, and asked me to unchain the vestry door so she could take it round the back.

I was about to do so, when someone waved at me from the prayer corner, wanting me to pray with someone. The treasurer went to open the vestry door.

I went and prayed, offered tissues etc. The person recovered herself, and I went into the next room to get a coffee.

On the way to the coffee queue ( a walk of at least, ooh, 20 seconds) the person who I'd been communicating with via the medium of sign language stopped me to ask if I knew anything about the visitor because he'd had such a strong accent he couldn't understand him. I didn't, but had a long and confused conversation, because I initially thought he was talking about the preacher, who had a slight welsh accent and had entertained us by telling stories in a scots accent.

Walked 3 paces and someone stopped me to ask if I could do some photocopying for them. I said I would once I'd got a coffee and if I could remember the code.

Walked another 3 paces and was stopped by someone else. She wanted to know about a notice in the notice sheet, did I know anything. I said I didn't. This apparently wasn't sufficient information, so I added a couple of suggestions of people she could ask and for good luck also outlined their half term holiday plans. This was more acceptable, and I made it to the front of the coffee queue without incident, at the same time waving to a friend to get her to come rescue me.

At this point actually managed a non-functional conversation, which was only interrupted by the photocopying lady who very politely told me she'd got someone else, who could remember their code, to do it for her.

Then all that was left to do was lock up, chase out the stragglers, and run away home. Is it wrong to be slightly horrified at the thought of going to a church service every week for THE REST OF MY LIFE?!