What price manners?

Today I had an unexpected work booking, and because it was unlikely I'd make it home and then back out again with Dandy to get to the vet's by his 5pm appointment. So I did the polite thing, and phoned up to warn them I might be late. There was a 6.50 appointment, and I asked them to book me into that as well in case I was too late for my 5pm. In the event, the traffic was not too bad, and I got home, managed to box Dandy up, parked right outside the surgery (across the car park gateway...) and stepped inside at 5pm on the dot. Booked in. And waited. And waited. And waited. And saw person after person who'd arrived after me go in to get their pet seen. Eventually I asked what on earth was going on. I mean, I was patient, because when Dandy and Beano went along last month they took 45 minutes instead of the usual 10. That's when I found that the nurse I'd spoken to had actually cancelled my five o'clock. And the practice manager with whom I'd booked in (the practice manager) didn't wonder why I'd arrived nearly 2 hours early, or think to mention I'd have to wait so long to be seen. Happy bunny I was not. After 50 minutes I finally got seen. Poor Dandy. As I left, I told the practice manager that next time I thought I might be running late, I wouldn't bother to phone them and let them know. When I got home, I found I'd dropped my fleece on the way out. Damn. So much for the dignified superior exit.