Apart from Pat, who I’ve known all my life and I can’t remember not hating, here is the other main issue I have with Kate’s thrift shop and thrift shops in general: Most of the clothes they’re selling people have died in. Relatives then shoved those clothes, plus the contents of the dead person’s home, into bin bags and dropped them off outside the shop in the middle of the night (and we all know what happens when bin bags are left in front of shops or homes: vermin, vomit, vandalism).

You should see their assortment of bric-a-brac (FYI, bric-a-brac is a fancy term for “random shit nobody needs”). Examples:

• Ancient Royal Wedding mug featuring a washed-out Princess Diana with a massive chin. Vile.
• Arsenal salt and pepper shakers. Just crap.
• Thimble with IBIZA written on it. What?
• Christmas soap collection from Boots circa 1971. Rancid.

And last but definitely not least, my personal favorite and a genuine bargain at only three pounds:

• A dried-up yet fully inflated puffer fish with plastic googly eyes stuck on. Why?

When I walked in, I was like: “Yes!” because it wasn’t Pat behind the till, but a guy with Down syndrome who was a bit older than me.

He didn’t say hello, and so I didn’t say anything either, which I thought was fine, because it’s a thrift shop and not Lush, where the salespeople are all like: “Hiya,” and in your face for half an hour.

I could hear Kate through the open door to the stockroom, and I thought I’d walk straight in. When I passed the till, the guy took a deep breath in, then shouted: “Kate! Customer!”

I literally had a heart attack and swung around to look at him and say something, anything, and our eyes locked.

Him (so loud): Kate! Customer!

Me:…

Him (even louder): Kate! Customer! Kate! Customer!

Me: Shut up!

Him:…

Then a girl in a school uniform with the bluest icy-blue eyes I’ve ever seen in all my life appeared from the back room, and she looked at me like: Did you just tell a person with Down syndrome to shut up? And I looked at her like: Well, yes, because why would I discriminate just because he has a learning disability? Then she went: “You okay, Alex?” to him, and to me: “Can I help you with anything today?” and I told her I was there to see Kate, and suddenly she looked at me like she totally had me figured out, and she was like: “Are you Phoebe? I’m Emma. Kate’s in the back, do you want to go through?”

I nodded, and the second I moved, Alex shouted: “Kate! Customer!” again so loudly I swear it made all the shitty bric-a-brac rattle.

I flinched, which I know Emma thought was hilarious because I saw her biting her lip like she was afraid to laugh in my face.