Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day (cleanskies) wrote,
Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day
cleanskies

so I cracked and went to Primark

I managed to completely cock up going to Abingdon (market town a few miles away) today. The bus seemed a bit bigger than usual, took an odd turn, and I was abruptly in a wilderness of speed bumps and public schools. Well, I say abruptly, but I must have been there for over an hour, because when I got out of the bus I glanced at the big public clock in the square and it was midday already! Arrgh! I stormed up the street swearing at the time, the buses, the little old lady blocking the bus and the car full of squaddies that looked at me funny (green hair works its magic again) but the person I was meeting seemed quite cool about my being so late. Well, she's often dealing with moderately chaotic clients, I guess, and a lot of my colleagues cut me some of the same slack that the youths get, so...

So... meeting over, I get back to the busstop and the clock is still on noon. It's been on noon for quite a while, and my guess is that I wasn't any later at the meeting than I warned her I was going to be. Really must get a watch!

I solved the trouser problem in Primark. It always seems like a bit of a cheat, and they won't wash well, but at £6 and £5 I'm not complaining. I'm not sure how the sequins and bondage straps will go down at work, but I'm pleased -- especially as in a fit of irritation with the Next Sale Shop ("we don't have a fitting room -- but you can take clothes back to any of our stores") I stormed into Tiger Lily and found that someone had left a hoodie covered with manga kids on the sale rail for me. Well, it's always a risk when you go out to buy a sensible pair of trousers for work.

While I was hunting for a t-shirt to round out my purchase to £15 I happened to stray over to the security guards' rostrum. As is traditional for Thursday night they were teenagers, two serious boys. They were having a discussion about prostitution, and whether paying for sex could ever be justified. They were really stuck into it, and you could hear in their voices the potential of a friendship broken, even though they were pretty much agreeing with each other. I drifted off so as not to inhibit their conversation; another boy was folding linen trousers. I found a t-shirt very like one I'd owned in 1987.

There really are a lot of discarded coat-hangers in the changing rooms at Primark. I guess it's all part of the experience.
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