Dance to the music

It’s just as well I don’t get as embarrassed as I used to in my youth. Although there are still (too many) times when I wish the earth would open and swallow me, today’s shopping expedition wasn’t one of them. I scuttled around town in my lunch half-hour, getting a few girly odds and ends, then remembered I had to send a birthday card to my niece, so I pottered into Smiths to look at their selection. I don’t often go into Smiths now, so I have no idea when they introduced background music in the store, but generally it wasn’t too intrusive, and I thoughtfully perused the card selection. What would be suitable for her – a pretty one? An arty one? A saucy one? That was when it happened. The background music changed from something quiet and contemplative (no idea what it was) to ‘Happy Hour’ by The Housemartins. Now I’m very sorry, but it isn’t possible for me to hear that song without dancing. Not just a gentle sway of the shoulders or tap of the feet either; this necessitated a proper bop.

I expect people were staring in admiration at my teeshirt. I know my boss was. No doubt the orders for ‘I Thing’ shirts will be flocking in now, and Simon, Rich and Carol can go and buy their island paradises. I hope they don’t get all snooty and forget they have me to thank for their fortunes.