IN search of a nice Christmas card Pete stumbled into Colin the Card (or should that be Glen the Card?)
This tiny Tardis-alike source of all things necessary for festive occasions was positively bulging with those engaged in eager search for cards or nik-naks.
He ground to a halt, outnumbered and overwhelmed, a solitary stationary being in a swirling sea of humanity, a look of terminal perplexion on his face.
‘Can I help you?’ a gentle female voice asked at his elbow.
Gratefully Pete answered ‘I’m looking for a wife.’
‘Would a card do?’ she replied unfazed and with all the tactful skill of a Nato Chief Negotiator. ‘Wife cards are over here. Shall I hold your shopping so that you have both hands free to look?’Pete doesn’t look with his hands, he looks with his eyes, but I know what she meant.
At that point I came into the shop to find Pete happily riffling through the Wife cards, with his Personal Shopper standing patiently at his elbow and loaded with his previous purchases, yet still managing to create around him a little oasis of calm amid the surging sea of shoppers.
The Wife card chosen, she spirited it away and discretely inserted it into a paper bag, upon which she wrote Wife – just so that I would not inadvertently open the bag, see my card before time, and spoil my surprise!
In my opinion every shop should have a Noreen, for that is the lady’s name!
