Jen's Diary

energy, fortunes, spacey

16/06/22

I went into Angel today to visit one of my favourite book shops. It hasn’t been there very long, but the staff are super nice, and the books they stock all have a left leaning vibe. It feels independent, although it probably isn’t. It’s probably secretly owned by Waterstones, or Foyles, or Nestle. Still, I don’t buy brand new books very often - so if I’m going to, I’d rather do it there.

They have a stamp card system, similar to the ones that coffee shops employ. This works for coffee shops, because coffee isn’t that expensive (relative to new books). Books, on the other hand, tend to RRP at about £10.99 - and considering you have to buy 10 before you quality for a freebie, I don’t envision myself ever getting there. The woman behind the counter did give me two stamps for one purchase - but I’m so cynical that I just assume that’s something they do for everybody so as to endear themselves to you. 

I had to get an adapter for my phone because the phone got on upgrade doesn’t have a headphone jack. While I was paying in Argos, the woman behind the counter was eating a sausage roll. I don’t mind this at all. I don’t understand people’s obsession with “good customer service”. I think this is something the Americans have passed off on us - all I want is the thing I paid for. You can give that to me with sausage roll all over your face for all I care. Besides, she complimented my hair - so she’s my friend now. 

Outside the shop, there were a group of young people in bright orange t-shirts, giving out free tropical flavour energy drinks. I don’t usually drink energy drinks, but I also don’t usually pass up anything that’s free, so I took one. It tasted good, and definitely gave me a little pep in my step. Don’t physicists say that all energy comes from somewhere? As in, you have to put in energy to get energy back out? Well, I didn’t put any energy into getting that free energy drink. So I win. I beat physics.  

On my way home that evening, I was standing at the bus stop in Dalston. It was gone midnight, and an old man wearing a bus drivers uniform approached me. I assumed, as he was wearing a bus drivers uniform, that he was a bus driver waiting to change with the driver. But he kept asking for my hand so he could tell my fortune. He didn’t really look too deeply, and instead opted to just poke the palm of my hand and say “good life”. He did this 4 or 5 times. When the bus arrived, he didn’t change with the driver as I thought he might, instead he walked off briskly in the opposite direction and vanished.