I was idly listening into a conversation between two ladies in a bakery today as one was making my sandwiches. They were discussing jobs they'd had. One talked about when she'd worked in a butchers department and how confusing it was when:
"all the old ladies with their cauliflower hair and straight blue anoraks"
came into the shop at the same time as she would mix them up and give the wrong order to the wrong lady because they all looked the same. Those few words painted such an image in my mind that any professional author or poet would have been proud of them
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