Customer Service My cousin is working temporarily in Crawley, a town which exists solely for servicing Gatwick Airport, and every day he is confronted with a new bizarre sight outside the train station. The best one this week was two dwarves slapping each other. He popped into Sainsbury’s and bought a jacket potato and pack of Garibaldis (those biscuits with raisins in which look like squashed flies) for lunch. The man at the counter asked him “Are you going to have a BBQ today then, sir” perfectly seriously. He thinks Crawley might be directed by David Lynch. I like the idea of a biscuit bbq. Also I got a lovely kelly green (my favourite colour) blouse with white polka dots and white piped trim from a charity shop. It was a Topshop one, from the days when Topshop used to actually be good quality, and cost £3. When I got it to the till, the woman insisted on charging me £1, as “I don’t feel right charging you so much for such an ugly blouse”. Backhanded compliment much, love? When I came out of the shop I burst out laughing.