Disagreement with a smile

Coming back from lunch on Friday afternoon I see and old eccentric looking gentleman waiting by the information booth. I slip in through the side door take off the sign that says, "the information point is temporarily closed. Please accept our apologies for any inconvenience" with a smile and a cheery "You've caught me fresh back from lunch, how can I help you?" "That sign" he says jabbing his finger at the A4 laminated sheet still in my hand, "could mean anything between 10 minutes and 18 months, it's not very helpful is it?" We seem to have a live one here and I start wondering what's pissed him off so, he doesn't look like the type to get a parking ticket. "Well, I'm here now sir, how can I help you?" I say still smiling. "What is Boris doing?” he asks vaguely, but with eyes piercing through me. "I'm afraid I'm not clear on what you mean Sir, at the moment I believe he's on the 8th floor but I don't have access to his diary so I don't know his exact movements."
He's getting red in the face, I don't think that was the question he was asking, ah well, here we go, thinks I.
"I mean, what is he doing, what are his policies, what are his thoughts and opinions on various London wide issues?" "Oh, I see" this should be quite simple after all, "All the policy information is on our website, would you like me to give you the address? If you tell me which area you are specifically interested in I can direct you to the most relevant page" I say with my autopilot voice and my default smile still on my face. "You" there’s venom there-I reach for the panic button, "get paid to look on that thing, I do not" he says jabbing a finger at the screen on the desk. I'm out of my depth; I say I'll make some enquiries to see if we have any leaflets, if he could just tell me specifically what he actually wants. He looks at me with contempt, as if he has explained this several times already in progressively simpler sentences and exhausted his efforts in making me understand. "I would like to know what his policies are" He says slowly. "On?" I ask trying not too sound rude but wishing I had some form of tazer I could attach to his bow tie. "Transport, housing, health, equalities" he barks back. "Oh, and could I also get a list of Assembly Members?" He asks politely then shuffles away looking at the posters on the opposite wall. So I phone and get someone to bring down what he wants, we don't have all the leaflets so take his address with he promise to post them when we have them. He seems happy with this. But he points out the poster behind him is out of date and he hadn't seen any advertising for it and if he was really interested in China (subject of the exhibition the poster is advertising) he would have missed it, once again I tell him that the information is available on our website and quite often also in the local press. This simply isn't good enough and he has a full blown rant telling me that "Ken was always transparent, you knew where you stood and now it's all changed"-now I see the problem, he’s a blue and the reds are in charge, well it's not my fault is it, I didn't even vote! Websites don't have an index, in the 50's the librarians had a strike because they wanted all new books published to have and index, and they did, and they got it, but no-ones going to strike because a webpage doesn't have an index and it's impossible to find what you want...." Should I be pressing the panic button yet? He turns to leave, walks away sees an exhibit on the competition for filling the 4th plinth at Trafalgar square, recently won by Antony Gormley. "That needs to come down too, the competition's over. Gormless won it didn't he? He's having other people do the work, you know he had another exhibition, that Gormless, where he had the public make their own art, then he exhibited it and took all the money!" He rants on, less coherently than last time and mentioning his 'Gormless' joke twice in case the first time was lost on the fortunate fool behind the desk. "Clever fella" I sneer back, just managing to conceal my own contempt "I wish I'd thought of it" I'm back to smiling, he might go away now. He starts up the ramp, yay he's leaving! Reads the first poster he comes to looks at a few more until he gets about half way up, then he turns and comes back. I pretend to be engrossed in my screen, doing some really important work, he's not deterred. "I've just read that poster, it's about a young girl with Lupus, not anywhere does it tell me what lupus actually is" he's back to calm enquiries now, but it's too late for me, I look up the ramp and see two workmen, one is up a ladder putting up posters, picture and plaques relating to the new theme, just going up today, I knew they were there, it wasn't too long ago I was cursing the drill.
"Of course it's incomplete, they haven't finished putting it up!" I exclaimed with genuine frustration. "Lupus is a skin disease, that’s all I know, if you want to find out urgently I suggest you Google it".
By now I've emailed my boss and told her he won't go away, so she phones me and I avoid eye contact with him, I must look busy now because he finally leaves.

I'm left feeling bewildered, I never found out what he actually wanted, I was polite, I smiled, I was helpful, I even called him Sir. I don't do that very often.