I’m in ‘Quicksilver’ with my friend Abi looking at clothes and bags, stroking almost everything I see like every item is a large eyed fluffy bunny rabbit. I pay a certain bag extra attention, admiring the design and craftsmanship even though its identical to the 6 year old one I have on my back. I show it considerable respect even sneaking in a quick sniff to appreciate the scent my bag had lost many years ago. Abi looks concerned. I then notice stairs leading to a second floor and I immediately head towards them excited at the thought of another floor of items to stroke. As I reach the top of the staircase I’m greeted by a giant female bottom wrapped in a bikini. It takes me a moment to realise it was a picture on the wall and not a giant woman who had got lost on her way to the beach. I spend another few minutes starring at the picture before Abi’s face of concern makes a reappearance. I snap out of it and let the clothes caressing commence.
A little while later I'm sitting on a random beach chair situated in the middle of the floor all exhausted which is normal after a session of un-orthodox fabric rubbing. I look down at my hands to see the carpet burn-esq irritations I had developed but they are quite happily tapping away to the beat of this rock tune that was playing. It soon becomes clear to me that my hands were not crazy, they wasn't dropped on their knuckles when they were little, they did not incur any nerve damage that would cause involuntary finger spasms and in fact the tune they were tapping away to was actually a TUNE!! A TUNE I HAD TO HAVE!! I jump out of the chair and do a quick little dance……and by dance I mean I shook my hip to the left then the right in a very feminine way. After making sure Abi hadn’t seen my little “shimmy” that I’m sure I got from a ‘High School Musical’ routine I run to a man who I assume worked there. He didn’t. Slightly embarrassed I run to a lady who was standing by a till…somehow I’m hesitant as to whether she worked there or not so I ask “sorry do you work here?”. She looks at me with a face that says “What do you think dumb ass!! Actually no, in fact I'm a burglar who was after a little daytime petty theft when a customer approached me and I decided to cover the tills for a few hours”. I quickly cover myself by adding “of course you do, duhhh…sorry…err, was just wondering if you know who sang this song”. She tells me she has no idea but to ask the guys downstairs so I leave her to finish her work…..or thieving, and rush over to the staircase. Again I take a few moments to appreciate the huge ka’boose on the wall then bolt downstairs to find someone who could help me identify the song. I pass that bag again and before I know it my ‘fabric feeling’ fetish is reactivated and my hands are all over it. “What are you doing!! the song is gonna finish!! put the bag down and move away!!” I order myself. Reluctantly I oblige and put the bag back. Behind the counter is an impassive guy who seems quite engrossed with his fingers…perhaps he was disappointed with his manicure…no that cant be it, they look perfectly edible…I would love to run my hands over some fine cotton with THOSE fingers…I then conclude he was the lady upstairs partner in crime and was obviously trying to rub off the fake latex fingerprints he had put on earlier for the ‘job’. As a good citizen I would have said something but who am I to deny a couple of thief's a chance to earn a few hours of legit money. I approach the guy with a face that says “don't worry mate, your secret is safe with me”. “Excuse me mate, do you know who sung this song?” I ask. He looks up at me quite puzzled and fires back a “Nah, cant remember” then quickly walks away and disappears behind a ‘STAFF ONLY’ door.
I stand there at a complete lost. More lost than that TV show we all want answers to. More lost than that Coldplay song. More lost than that world of dinosaurs Spielberg found. I may as well have been surrounded my purple aliens who obsessively slurp Dr. Pepper through their shoulder located belly-buttons…which I guess you would call a shoulder-button……I WAS LOST!!! Had I done something to upset him?? Did he think I was an undercover policeman trying to suss him out?? Maybe he had seen me enter the shop and thought I was gonna ask him if I could stroke his t-shirt!! that's enough to freak anybody out!! The more I thought about it the more it seemed unlikely. He was just being plain rude!! I felt my eyebrows lowering so I start taking deep breaths before I turned green and suddenly appeared in stretchy purple shorts. What kind of customer service was that!! I know my question was not exactly Quicksilver-related but still!! That was just plain rude!! No customer deserves to be treated like that!! He doesn't even deserve to work there, they should fire him and hire that guy I thought actually worked there!! I should have got Abi to ask for me, she’s pretty, there’s no way he would do that to her!! he’d probably even make up some band to stay in her good books!! well he is officially in MY bad books. I grab an invisible pencil and write in my invisible bad book [Grumpy Quicksilver dude with the pretty fingers]. I should write a letter or something…a letter of complaint!!…receiving one of those is frowned upon. Get them some bad press. I can see the headlines now; QUICKSILVER GET LETTER OF COMPLAINT DEMOTING THEM TO QUICKBRONZE!!
The guy suddenly reappears looking quite remorseful. “Just asked my colleagues but they don't know either sorry mate. Its an old song though if that helps”. I thank him for his efforts with a smile and leave him to admire his professional modelling worthy fingers. What a nice guy I think to myself as I reach for my invisible rubber and proceed to erase him from the bad book. Abi looks concerned.