A little back story. I walked into the Salvation Army op shop on Princes Street, planning to get me a few good old fashioned bargains, and if I should happen to profit from them on trade me who's to speak of it again? I entered to overhear some of the most deliciously trashy conversations I have heard in a long time. Some woman trying to organise a bicyle because she's lost her license for 6 months, a heated chat about a complaint lodged against one of the staff...well, I was entranced. And then, like manna from heaven, a beautiful argument between staff members. One of whom, a tired and murky looking man, was being admonished by a particularly shrewish woman. "Why did you go out there, I told you to stay here!" "But I was picking up the donations, so no-one would..." "I don't care, you were supposed to stay here and mind the counter. I expect to come back and find you sparkling!"
I'd never seen anyone less likely to sparkle, even under less trying circumstances.
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