I do love the awkward ones ..

Working at the side entrance of a busy, main street, lots of strange incidents occur both inside and outside the very famous department store where l work. (Now, l am in no way racist, so if l say something, it happens. It's not a dig at a certain group of people. It is what l see and experience with regularity. Okay?)

Just after the Christmas sales, when all the refunding of menswear comes to an end thankfully, there's yet another price reduction. So most brands are now at 70%. Do you not think that is incredibly generous? Oh no .. not for some.

'He low, daaarleeng. Ayee would like to purchase theese lovlee coat, but weeel, eet ees faar too pricee. How much how much .. '

Fella knows darn well that we don't/can't offer any more off. I know he has plenty shops himself, and perhaps HE goes about his business operating that way, but we just don't.

He's at it.

There's absolutely no point in answering, as it then becomes this you're-inferior-to-me-because-l-am-stinkin'-rich-and-you're-just-a-female, tennis match. So easy to get caught up in the game. But l carry on smiling, tidying the already tidy.

'Hey. Lay dee. Vot you sayeeng? Jacket now 300. There. I give you 225. You take 10 pound. Go. TakeTake.'

He's shoving notes towards me, flings the Ralph Polo 'coat' at me,
and starts twittering into his bleeping phone.

I pick up the tossed jacket, and replace it on the shiny wooden hanger. Whatever that call was, he's turned from slightly pathetic, whiny thing, to Mr Angry, then baby-in-a-cream-puff. Honestly. Get a grip, man.

'YOU. GIMMEE THAT COAT. I a bizzee man'. He's tap tapping at his gaudy Rolex.

I try not to show my distaste, but a grin seems to be sneaking through. Best thing is to appear as if l'm doing his begging. Few bits fine tissue paper. Nice Ralphy carrier bag.

'Thank you, sir. Have a good evening', pinging up a toothy smile.

After all, 300 quid is 300 quid, on a quiet Monday at closing time ..