My girlfriend has asked me to sell this dress on her behalf as she’s just popped out to the shops. Now I’m no David Debenhams, but I’ve got a bit of time before I need to go and rehearse with my Eagles tribute act “Over The Eagle Limit”, so wish me luck... Wow. Where to start. You know when you’re just watching the clock on a rainy Friday at work? It’s 4.30pm, you’ve got an hour to go before you can hammer out of the door, race to the “Kings Head” and inhale an entire bottle of Blossom Hill’s rose before stealing someone else’s Uber home and crying yourself to sleep.
Well imagine Karen, the head of dress design appeared at your desk around 4.31pm, saying something like, “Hiya sweetie. Yeah tiny weenie favour to ask... Can you just pep this dress up a little before you leave work this evening? It’s been a bit of a slow seller and it needs some va va voom. Know what I mean? Of course you do. Thanks darling.”... ( Typical Karen ) Because that is the only set of circumstances I can think of that would result in absolutely anyone at Zara putting fish like gills and fins on a dress!? They must have been gagging to get to the pub that night! “What gills?...but it’s a dre...OK OK, gills it is! Jesus, you don’t have to shout...” Anyway it’s a size Euro M and will in no way make you a better swimmer.
God I hate Karen.
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