A Rug Order

It’s Monday today and I am at the shop. So far, it’s been a very sad day. This is firstly down to the loss of the teaspoon. Jonah was in yesterday, as was the teaspoon, but today it is missing. He will deny all knowledge of its loss when he is challenged later, but this needs addressing as I have had to use a pencil to retrieve my teabags and may well die of lead poisoning.

Secondly, I am in receipt of a rug order. This is in the form of four bales the size and weight of a dead body. When attempting to free the rugs from their bales, the material from which they are constructed leaves small threads all over the shop. One then undertakes the physical strain of an exercise routine to wrestle the rugs into orderly piles, whilst covering oneself with small particles of cotton. I always wear black for this activity, which is due to the un-expectance of its arrival, as I always hope that it will not arrive on my day in the shop. I don’t order the rugs myself, but I don’t have a suspicious nature, therefore it would not cross my mind that I have been framed.

However, the delivery man is always cheerful (they all are, really). They think I am the only person that works here as they never see the other two!

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