Interlude: I am sometimes a liar

Wandering around the shops on Oxford Street, I saw a nice suit in a window, and went inside to have a look.

A guy named Iggy came along to help me, and before I knew it, I was trying on the pants and Iggy was putting pins around my ankles. Thing is, I really liked the suit. Iggy kept rushing around to show me other things. He got a couple of shirts and a tie together. My last new suit was in 1998, so I figured I was probably due.

I said maybe a suit in brown instead, and he produced one I also liked. Before too long I had two suits, four shirts and a tie. I was apparently gonna need cufflinks as well. Maybe some shoes. And how was I set on belts?

Many of you know that I have little or no sales resistance. I have great difficulty saying no, especially when staff have been taking up time in assisting me. Although the suits weren't terribly expensive, I knew I was way over my spending limit.

"OK," I said. "I'm gonna need you to...uh..." I couldn't think what to say. I needed time to think. "Put all this on hold. I need to...check with my better half."

Even though I am chronically single, it came out easily. I even added a bit of frustration and bemusement to the "better half" part. With a little eye roll and a shrug that said Oh, I'm just helpless when it comes to these things.

"Ahhh," he said, as if I had explained everything. He actually winked at me. "We'll hold these. Make sure she knows how good you look."

"Oh, I will."

I gave him my name and told him I'd return in the morning.

I returned this morning on my way back from Buckingham Palace. It had just started to seriously rain, although it had been drizzling for the whole four hours or so I'd been walking around. So I was soaking wet and looked a little bedraggled.

I went downstairs. Iggy soon joined me.

"So, where's the boss? Doesn't she want to see?" he asked.

"Oh, no, it was...telephone. She's in America." I looked at the suits he was laying out. "I'm...it's just gonna be the one suit. And the blue shirt."

He actually looked crushed. "Did you tell her how good you looked in them? Because I think..."

"Yes, I told her. But...you know..." I did the shrug again, with a head wobble to indicate she was very unreasonable. But what could I do. I'd obviously lost the argument.

I picked the suit I had seen in the window. As I was checking out upstairs, Iggy told the guy ringing me up little details he had pried from me about my life and which he had somehow retained. I guess he's a pretty good salesman.

The guy behind the counter said, "Iggy, he's sniffling. Sell him a raincoat."

So I fled.