The running of a charity shop is a strange business. In many ways, which I shall attempt to document here in an amusing anecdotal fashion. One can only hope it will be for the edification of the masses, though in truth its primary purpose is to prevent my own insanity by providing a cathartic outlet. And to save all my relationships which will inevitably crumble through the pressure of being used in this way.
My shop and I must remain unidentified - but picture a busy seaside town full of the waifs and strays of humanity, from hippies and heroin addicts to students and sartorial savoirs. My customers are lunatics, my volunteers are lunatics, and if I did not keep a sense of humour, I would also swiftly become a lunatic. As one of my friends said, you have to laugh, because otherwise you'd just sit in a corner and rock.