Retail therapy

I was completely sober last Sunday in Rough Trade records about mid-afternoon. I had purchased a Justice CD for a fiver and was weaving my way through the hip and the cool kids when I brushed up against a stray vinyl record. This fleeting hit of friction tore a tiny hole in my precious Bolongaro Leather Jacket. I glanced at the record, Pink Moon by Nick Drake. A beautifully crafted album that didn't deserve the fate of being smashed to bits over my knee. So with nothing and no one to dispense my anger upon, I went straight over the road to Son of a Stag, for an immediate hit of retail therapy. I threw on the first shirt that I saw. It came up a perfect fit, except the sleeves barely crept past my elbows. So I accosted the sales boy.
"This shirt is fucked man."

Not for me thank you Mr Commission 

"It's not fucked," he said rolling back a lock of his lustrous hair over one lobe. "They're 3/4 length sleeves, it's very popular in America right now, Baseball players wear it. Also, if you're in the habit of rolling up your sleeves like I am, then this shirt is perfect because the sleeves are pre-rolled."
"Bullshit man." I barked. "For one, I roll up my sleeves to send a message of intent to anyone watching, that I'm ready to work, ready to fight, or ready to fuck. Second, it's not such a calorie burner for me to roll up a piece of light cotton from my wrist to my elbow. Thirdly, baseball sucks, and that's just good science. Good day sir."

T-shirt and Tattoo combo

Of course this dialogue only happened in my head and I instead feigned interest to the sales guy who had such a hard-on for this horrible garment he must have had shares in the brand. However I needed a hit of shallow materialism to patch up the hole in my heart that was as big as the hole in my jacket. Mr Commission threw a handful of options at me until I opted for an Edwin t-shirt that has the exact design as the tattoo on my chest.
Quite the afternoon I can tell you.