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.