Nipped into town this morning and bought a couple of jumpers, a roll of brown parcel paper, a Pritt stick, Cormac McCarthy's The Road and a pack of 50 paper cd wallets. Can't tell you why I've felt the need to document my purchases in such detail - maybe just the jumpers would have been enough - but I've gone and done it anyway. Flashing the cash. I'm pleased with the jumpers in particular. One is purple and the other is green. I'm broadening my palette. I've yet to try out the Pritt stick but I'll let you know how that turns out in good time. Actually I probably won't... I've used Pritt many times before and, in my opinion - having dabbled in my fair share of rival glue, you can always depend on Pritt. Nothing else comes close. Anyway, seeing as I was there, I paid a cheque into my bank account too. It had been in my wallet since the first strains of the industrial revolution. I really need to stop being so casual with my cheques. I'd hate for somebody to cheque up on me.
Ha, that didn't even make sense.
So I was a little surprised to see such a strong turn out at the mobile chlamydia testing truck on the high street. There were hundreds of people there, all seeming very chatty and excitable. It was joyous. It took me a good minute or so of gawping before I realised that they were all office workers taking part in a fire drill. What a funny sight it was though... I bet the staff in that little truck couldn't believe their eyes when they saw the collective shadow of 300-odd HSBC workers rapidly bearing down on them. Now that must have been terrifying.