There is nothing like a real load of old cobblers on a Sunday morning to brighten your day. It appears tradders never get the total nutcases, the habitual moaners, the ones for whom nothing is ever going to be good enough, the grumpy old gits, the hormonal women, The ones who can't afford it but don't like to admit it, or the woman who can't tell that the marks she called you back for are on the inside. Now there is something new I have learned, because I used to get them all when I was trad.