You have to feel sorry for some people and I’m not without compassion. When they say:
“It’s three pound but I’ve only got two left”. I reply.
“Then you’d better put it back then hadn’t you, you haven’t got enough money”.
“But I really want it” they say.
“We’ll if you come back next week with more money, if I’ve still got some left then you’ll be in luck”.
It is around this time that they produce a purse. The one that contains the ‘magic pound coin’.
It must be magic because it wasn’t there a moment ago but now it seems to have miraculously appeared.
Actually it’s no surprise that they couldn’t see it because it was buried beneath that curled up wad of fifty pound notes that they neglected to mention.
A similar thing often occurs when the same punters bring up three polo shirts, the two on the outside being the cheap polyester ones while the one neatly hidden on the inside is the nice cotton one with a horse on the front.
Like I don’t know my own stock.
My punters maybe many things but potential candidates for MI5 they are not.
That’s this week’s report from Pete the market trader. The man on the street. Literally.
