Pounding The Streets
Visible signs of the looming recession must include this image from Inverness. It's a sad day when even those ninety-nine pence shops start to go out of business while charities such as continue to be needed.
I have to confess to being slightly addicted to those quid-or-under places. I can't pass one without popping in to pick up a few birthday or Christmas gifts for the special people in my life. After all, it's the thought that counts, not the price-tag. Keep saying that out loud and eventually you'll be able to sleep at night.
The upmarket version of those shops is probably Poundland where they have turned our desire for unecessary bargains into something approaching an art form. Come on, don't tell me you're not the teeniest bit tempted by those rows of VHS video cassettes or the rubber hot water bottles in a choice of three lurid colours. Only a quid each.
But I'm waiting for the moment when one of the checkout girls finally snaps because yet another customer has approached her with the question I hear asked every time I go in there:
"Excuse me, but how much is this?"
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