tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736931326120070680.post8089013452662308509..comments2019-01-31T08:13:55.676+00:00Comments on small pleasures: Got along without you before I met you, gonna get along without you nowBeth Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10257864885944938190noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736931326120070680.post-42985273075093520502011-01-12T13:21:55.420+00:002011-01-12T13:21:55.420+00:00I got in the shop, once, and didn't buy anythi...I got in the shop, once, and didn't buy anything. The old lady was there, as was the old man, both without the slightest interest in selling any item. I await the 'Everything Must Go' sale.. that'll take a while.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13808896510721818746noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736931326120070680.post-49479454915721105062009-10-25T13:52:35.451+00:002009-10-25T13:52:35.451+00:00Bucks Boy, I sympathise. I it was who, circa 1982,...Bucks Boy, I sympathise. I it was who, circa 1982, on attempting to buy a cheeseburger in McDonalds (I refer you to the date in order to excuse my youthful self) and being asked if I wanted fries with that, replied, 'If I'd have wanted fries I'D HAVE ASKED FOR FRIES'. Then I had to be removed from the premises in a mouth-frothing frenzy.<br /><br />Ahem. That's enough disclosure for one day.Bethnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736931326120070680.post-20634321787203605972009-10-23T23:24:03.607+01:002009-10-23T23:24:03.607+01:00Sounds like my kind of shop. I was always rather ...Sounds like my kind of shop. I was always rather taken by the (apparently true) story of the man who went into the only bookshop in Kendal and asked the owner if he had a copy of 'Bright Lights, Big City' by Jay McInerney. 'Why do you want to read that?' came the robust reply. Surely this is English service culture at its most vigorous? Despite my boyish good looks I am, in truth, a man of a certain age. As such, I'm not entirely comfortable with shop assistants who actually want to sell me things. For instance, I can't believe I'm the only 40-something who, when asked by a 17 year old coffee-monger whether I want 'a muffin with that', feels - well - a little alarmed. You're never quite sure what they're asking are you? Here's another case in point. The other day I was greeted by a young man (looking remarkably like Bob Dylan circa 1966) with the words, 'Easy man'. 'Er, yes, how do you do?', I replied, offering him my hand. He gripped it as if we were about to arm-wrestle and said, 'Sweet'. Incomprehensible ...<br /><br />Bucks BoyAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com