To the point

There’s a large branch of Primark, not that there are any small ones, you don’t see Primark Bijoux on random corners the way you see Tesco Expresses and Sainsburys Locals but give it time, before you know it you’ll be able to buy hoodies in a just-too-thin-to-be-any-good-against-a-stiff-breeze acrylic mix and a choice of slightly squeamish colourways no more than a short stroll from your door.

Let’s start that again.

There’s a large branch of Primark near us, in the big shopping centre, and as much as I adored the great Alan Coren he was wrong when he said, as he did on a radio programme called Freedom Pass in which he and another gentleman of a certain vintage used their pensioners bus passes to travel from Camden to Palmers Green on the upper deck of a 29, that the big shopping centre was built on the site of the old Wood Green Empire. The old Wood Green Empire still stands, more so than does the old British Empire; it's now a branch of the Halifax a good hundred yards from the redbrick monstrosity called Shopping City. Still, a remarkably entertaining programme which was re-broadcast a few nights ago on Radio 4 Extra as part of a tribute, and a much deserved one, to the late great man. 

Third time lucky?

There’s a large branch of Primark near us, in the big shopping centre. I was walking through it the other day, not that I was shopping there, more of an M&S man myself, occasionally Zara Man, sometimes a cheeky amble through the gentleman’s department in John Lewis or Debenhams but, being my age, caught on the outer edge of being able to wear jeans and nearing the time when I’d appear ludicrous in anything other than proper trousers, a sensible shirt and jacket, maybe a hat.

And again. 

There’s a large branch of Primark near us, in the big shopping centre. I was walking through it the other day and, really it’s not even as if it’s a place to go to look at other people. Everybody there seems happy enough and I certainly don’t want to get all snobbish about them, about the clothes, certainly, I’ve never seen anything in there I’d want to put anywhere near me, but not the people.

This’ll work eventually.

There’s a large branch of Primark near us, in the big shopping centre. I was walking through it the other day and again, the people there are fine but if you were, perhaps, looking to shall we say make new contact with new people, it’s not the place you’d start. Supermarkets at around six in the evening, they’re good for that sort of thing. You can get a head start by checking people’s baskets, see how many ready-meals for one they’re buying, whether there’s a cat involved, that sort of thing. That’s the sort of thing.

I’m not giving up.

There’s a large branch of Primark near us, in the big shopping centre. I was walking through it the other day, and as I turned a corner this tall and rather self-possessed girl stretched out her arm and punched me, right in the kisser. Accidental, of course, it’s unlikely this girl goes around punching strange men in discount clothes shops or any other place, unless it wasn’t accidental at all. Maybe punching strange men is something she does all the time in all manner of place. Maybe, and I hope this doesn’t sound misogynist, she sees it as a feminist thing to do. Nip into a shop, smack some unlucky bugger in the mouth, make it look like an accident – Oops! I was just putting on my cardigan! Sorry! I was just checking my phone! – and mark it up as a small victory against the repressive forces of male hegemony.

She apologised, quite genuinely, in that ‘oh my god I’ve just punched someone!’ way that involves a hand on the victim’s chest, combining sorrow and sympathy, then scarpered. I checked my wallet. She seemed like a nice girl but in Wood Green you can never be too careful. Then, out of nowhere, an assistant appeared, full of are you alrights and you’re not hurts, and she started a conversation that kicked off as being about the weather but suddenly turned into Oh My God I Know You! And as it turned out, she was the daughter of an old customer of mine and she remembered her daddy taking her to see me in my old shop, many years ago. He’s passed now, sad to say.

Small world. Sometimes not big enough.