Retail therapy...

Darn 'ere in Kent everyone talks like ‘Arry Redknapp, as though they’re auditioning for a part in East Enders. In a charity shop a film about the Kray twins was filed under ‘documentaries’.

I called into another little shop packed to the rafters with CDs, DVDs and vinyl. Just my kind of place. Usually. “You’ve picked a bad day to call. These are all going to Thailand”, the wild-eyed shop guy said enigmatically, waving his hand over piles of dusty LPs. I think any day would be a bad day to call. There was too much stock, stacked in disorderly chaos. I couldn’t take out one DVD without topping a pile. There was so little room to move that a fellow customer had to back out of the door just so I could extricate myself and leave the shop. I was getting mild claustrophobia. Since the shop seemed to reflect the owner’s state of mind, I wouldn’t like to be inside his head on a wet Monday morning…