High but not Mighty
Today is kind of a red letter day for me. It is the day that the shop where I get my clothes has a sale. If yo uhave ever been lucky enough to meet me you will have noticed that I am quite a tall chap. Tall enough to be unable to buy clothes at normal shops. So I am forced to go to an establishment with the lovely name of "High and Mighty" to obtain my apparel. The logo used to be a big picture of Henry the 8th. What a lovely person to be associated with.
Anyhoo, fourth of January is when their sale starts. Other shops have theirs on more convenient days during the christmas break, but hey, they have no need to worry about fitting in with the plans of their customers. It is not as if we are going to go anywhere else. So we take time off work and rumble down the motorway in my recently clean car to see what was fashionable in Sweden five years ago.
When we get there we find a bunch of strangely shaped people pawing the rails of clothes and looking a bit fed up. As well they might. The shop has mixed up all the high and the mighty stuff, so that you have no way of knowing whether that nice jacket will fit or turn out to be large enough to go round your body twice. They have two well defined customer groups (as in the name) and so of course the obvious thing is to mingle the products for them, doubling the time it takes us to shop. Perhaps their rationale is that I will like that jacket so much that I will ignore the fact that the sleeves stop just above my elbows and there is enough room inside the thing for myself and a couple of close friends. Whatever, at least it saves me money when I only manage to track down one jumper.
Anyhoo, fourth of January is when their sale starts. Other shops have theirs on more convenient days during the christmas break, but hey, they have no need to worry about fitting in with the plans of their customers. It is not as if we are going to go anywhere else. So we take time off work and rumble down the motorway in my recently clean car to see what was fashionable in Sweden five years ago.
When we get there we find a bunch of strangely shaped people pawing the rails of clothes and looking a bit fed up. As well they might. The shop has mixed up all the high and the mighty stuff, so that you have no way of knowing whether that nice jacket will fit or turn out to be large enough to go round your body twice. They have two well defined customer groups (as in the name) and so of course the obvious thing is to mingle the products for them, doubling the time it takes us to shop. Perhaps their rationale is that I will like that jacket so much that I will ignore the fact that the sleeves stop just above my elbows and there is enough room inside the thing for myself and a couple of close friends. Whatever, at least it saves me money when I only manage to track down one jumper.
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