I don’t think I can respect anyone who ostentatiously gives up drinking for a healthy lifestyle of water, green beans and brown rice, just so they can live longer to reminisce about the good old days of whiskey and soak.
In a shop full of soap a young female staff member, half my size and twice my superior, leaves her position by the door and stands next to me. For a brief moment I delude myself that there is chemistry there, but I’m sure she has me nailed down as a shoplifter.
There is nothing so obvious as a liar who tells the truth, which is why I cannot relax in expensive shops. I nearly had a panic attack in Selfridges once, and I found myself stumbling around as though blind drunk, instinctively flinching away from anything that brushed the hairs on my hand, whilst my friend floated around looking…
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