Shop!

When you were little, did your mother used to walk into shops and, if there was no-one behind the counter, holler "SHOP!" ?  I think it was an accepted way of enquiring where the blithering heck the shopkeeper was, as Mrs C needs to buy four ounces of your second-best Cheddar, right now.  That or "Oooh-ooh?" over the counter.  It seems shops were mainly left unattended, in my memory, at least.  Except for Mrs Matthias in the pet shop.  She was always there, serving great slabs of fido meat in grey or pink.

So I went back to Inno.  It felt like my eyes were being bludgeoned by an entire floor of almost-extinct summer prints.  Granted, summer is probably the wrong time of year to be trying to buy a black jacket, but I thought these things were available all year like, I don't know, knickers.  Certainly in Marks and Spencer you can pick up workwear any old goddamn time.  I started to feel dizzy. 

Giving up, I went downstairs and narrowly avoided buying a Hello Kitty notebook.  In the end, a sizeable chunk of my carte cadeau went on a very very nice backpack, into which shall go my lunch, possible salsa shoes, potential swimsuit, and definite French homework. 

After that there was a fruitful detour to HEMA, after which the dizziness became quite bad.  I think it was possibly existential angst mixed with hunger.  There were an awful lot of very unhappy children being pushed around the shops, and I can't help but think there might be some nicer place to take them.  Like home.

Still no jacket.