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My mp3 player, a temperamental beastie from the off, finally died last week. Well... I don't know that it's dead, as such. But I've put up with its little whims for three years and, now that it has decided it will only work when connected to the computer, I've had enough. I can still use it for storage, I suppose.

Anyway, this morning I went to buy a new one. Dear me, I dislike electronics shops. The first one I went into had three staff, all busy serving customers; I waited, browsing the displays. After about a minute, two teenage girls came in and stood next to me, then the teenage girl on the staff finished with her customer and came over to them. They turned out to be friends, and there was a lot of squealing excitedly about what they were going to buy. I realised eventually that she wasn't just saying hello to them on the way to serving me, that she was actually going to serve them first and at length. I could have made a fuss, I suppose, but I didn't want to reward her behaviour by giving her a sale, so I left that shop and went to the one across the street.

The shop across the street also had three staff who were busy, but after they sorted their customers out two of them came to serve me. One was an older man, of the wheezy, imminent-heart-attack sort, wearing a name tag claiming his name to be Helen; the second was a teenage boy, obviously new to the job because Helen was explaining everything to him as they went. Actually, it was a harrowing customer experience with the previous teenage boy in this shop that led me to go to the other shop first today; happily he seems to have moved on. Today's teenage boy was better. He told me that just yesterday they had got a shipment of some super-duper* new model ; Helen said, "Aw, yeah, but they're still out the back, they're not in the cabinet yet". That Helen: so keen to make a sale. Then the third staff member piped up, pointing out that the super-duper new models were actually in the box at our feet because she was about to unpack them.
So I bought one of them, largely just to spite Helen.

In unrelated news, the birth announcements today feature a baby girl named Tulloch. Tulloch. Tulloch was a celebrated racehorse (my grandfather had a biography of him). What sort of people would do that to a child?



* He may not have actually used the words "super-duper".

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