It's that time of the year-Christmas-and off we trot to the mall. We enter an outlet which specializes in cheap t-shirts. The racket is fit to pop my eardrums. A wake up coffee hasn’t helped. It is too early and I am bleary eyed and desperate.
“Would it be possible to turn the music down, please?” I ask a chirpy shop assistant who immediately turns nasty. I have crept over to the sales counter while the teenager is trying on the merchandise. I want to spare her the pain of knowing I have approached a salesperson for any other reason than to pay.
