I saw my friend Hannah today, which is something I haven't done for nearly a year, the last time being a visit to Chessington an August ago. We wandered around town before I bravely plucked up the courage to complain to the market stall I bought a new phone screen from.

This story may need some background.

A couple of weeks ago when Rachel and I were at the cinema, after the film I went to the toilet. The hook for my bag was too small so it ended up clattering to the floor, smashing a perfume bottle and the screen of my phone (grrr of the highest order). So I did what any unemployed person would do and took it to an extremely dodgy (AND seedy - a man old enough to be my dad asked if I had a boyfriend) mobile phone stall on the outdoor market. I had the screen replaced after haggling the price from £20 down to £8. I was pleased. Yet just a few days later one of the lines of the screens buggered up, rendering it defunct.

Let me demonstrate:

They refused to replace it: 'Verbal contract mate - ain't worth the paper it's printed on.' So I'm left with a crappier phone than ever. Seriously, it's such an ancient, shite phone that when I rang up Orange once, the bloke I was speaking to gave me 30 free texts out of pity as he obviously thought I was an impoverished hobo.

I'm back in London this weekend, for one of the New Bloke's friends' barbecues and, uncharacteristically for me, I'm going to watch the Arsenal-Newcastle match on Sunday. I've never been to a footie match of that scale but I'm sure it'll be good. I'll have to pretend to be a Gooner (Arsenal supporter) though, to avoid a beating of any kind.

previous | next