Work had exhausted me by the time Friday came around, so I decided to take it easy, pick up a book and a bottle of wine, and have a night in to myself. Paul was out with work, so the house was mine.
I went into Waterstone's after work to pick up Timbuktu by Paul Auster and The Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon. Miss Waterstone's was working, alongsdie three other tellers. I got to the front of the queue just as Miss W appeared to be finishing her transaction. How exciting! As I was about to step forward, a fourth till opened. "Who's next please?" Grrr! Not me.
I'm not sure why, but Miss W didn't look quite as dashing as she had before. Perhaps it was because she didn't have her glasses on.
No comments:
Post a Comment