Very personal shopper

Yesterday I had a personal shopping appointment at Debenhams.  This was a very sneaky time of year to go as it turns out a) the sales are in full swing b) VAT hasn't gone up yet and c) the personal shopping service was really quiet so I could actually get an appointment.  This was all very good.

However, despite being a veteran of the personal shopping experience, I have never yet had an appointment which has not proved Plog-worthy.  Yesterday, dear Ploggers, was no exception.

I arrived bang on time and was greeted by Steven and an assistant, whom I think was probably in training as she asked quite strange questions like, "What would you say is your preference?"

"Of what?" I would ask, not unreasonably.

"You know, like romantic, classic, dramatic."

"Oh," I would say.  "Obviously."

Anyway, I am not here to talk about the assistant.  I am here to talk about Steven, whose name I have changed to protect his identity.  We went through the usual questions about my height, dress size, budget and so on.  He then asked me how old I was.  I told him.

"I think you went to school with my brother," he said.

This surprised me, not least because I went to school 150 miles away.  And it was a girls' school.

"Oh," said I.

"Yes," he said.  "In Hainault."

This was clearly a case of mistaken identity.  I do quite often get mistaken for other people - I think I have one of those faces.  Many a time I've had to convince someone I didn't used to work with them in Southend, or sing a choir with them in Buckinghamshire.  I must have looked a bit like someone he knew.  But the Hainault thing was weird.

"I do live in Hainault," I said.  "But I didn't go to school there."  I explained the all-girlness and the distance of my school.

"I live round the corner from you," said Steven.  And proceeded to tell me exactly where he lived.  Which was - quite literally - just round the corner.  It freaked me out a bit that he knew exactly where I lived, but I guess I must have given my details when I booked the appointment.

"Anyway," Steven continued, "my brother did go to school with a Laura Nunn.  And she lives in Hainault.  So you have a double."

This is a bit worrying.  Another Laura Nunn in my neighbourhood.  There are two of us.  TheBloke (TM) asked me if it would be OK if he went round and had sex with her.  I said not really.  He got the hump because he said it's OK if she's called Laura Nunn.  We then debated if there were more Laura Nunns than there were TheBloke (TM)s, so who would do better if we were allowed to shag anyone with the same name as each other.

I have high hopes for our marriage.