I spent four hours being bumped around, drifting in and out of shops to the tune of the crowd. There was no other way, it was like a diffusion experiment gone berserk, and trying to forge your own route across the packed highstreet often meant that you had to spend five minutes standing on the other side waiting to regroup while massaging a kicked ankle.
Hanging out with Tish and Weng in a shopping arcade in the middle of the biggest sale of the year is irony in its purest form. I think that's why we should shop alone. I felt bad for even thinking about going into shops because they'd stand around the ladies department, fighting for air, and generally being useless. Shoe shops were even worse, and they quickly caught on and refused to let me drift towards them. So the day ended with Weng with a bag of Gap stuff, Tish with three birthday cards, and me with nothing. So come Wednesday, I'm going again.
I think this is how England's economy survives, the twice a year mega sale where enough money is spent to save the entire African continent but instead goes to flouncy tops and garish coats (that you wouldn't normally touch with a three foot stick) because they're such a bargain.
Then got talked into staying another night in Weybridge because it's not good to go home in the dark. I knew it was going to happen +lol+
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