I visited a small branch of a well known high street shoe repairer this lunchtime — starts with a T, ends in “impson” — and have to admit that they employ people of such high calibre that the mind boggles.
As I approached the door I could see a small handwritten sign stuck on the inside. It stated “Gone to Post Office, back in a few minutes”. Looking past the sign I could clearly see the man behind the counter, and the two customers waiting to be served.
I walked in.
After serving the two guys in front of me, and whilst I waited for my “only take a minute I guess” job to be done, another two customers, like me, ignored the sign and formed a queue.
The guy behind the counter looked up, sighed quietly and took off his jacket.
“Guess you won’t be getting to the Post Office then…” I said lightly, in attempt at mild humour.
“Well it is our busiest time” he replied.
Lost for words, I nodded. It was either that or blurt out the sarcastic thought in my head.. “YA THINK?!!”.
Sheesh.
