I bought a very smart dress yesterday from TK Max, a shop I dislike and usually cross the street to avoid but there was this one lovely dress so I bought it. It doesn't fit.
Our street parking arrangements are changing next week from free parking to community chest. My early morning Corrie viewing in bed (via the super new internet connection) was interrupted by Mr Smith brandishing bits of paper at me; I had to fill out a form and pay vast amounts of money for a parking permit. You need every last bit of documentation to prove it's your car and you are who you are and not some mate coming to park their car at your house; though why anyone would want to park here is beyond me as nobody does now, other than residents of the street. A bit short o' dosh are we Wandsworth? So I had to leave Weatherfield, and my bed, to find my reg.doc. and driving licence (still proud owner of tatty bit of paper), cheque book, pen and will to live. Mr Smith has decided not to pay the parking fee and never leave his car here at peak times. That's all very well but what happens when he's away? I am not driving his car round Richmond Park for a couple of hours in the morning and again in the afternoon in order to avoid a parking ticket. Honestly, it's only £120 - just pay it you mean old scroat.
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