We recently bought an antique rocking chair from a junk shop. It needs new upholstery so it wasn’t expensive. The existing upholstery seems to be Dralon in a kind of hearing-aid beige colour. We’d seen the chair before on a previous visit, but then we went back for a second look the place was closed, even though it was 11.30 on a busy Saturday morning.
Anyway, we finally decided on a third visit to look at this chair, but the shop was still closed. We had a few other things to do and eventually, when just about to set off home, we saw the reluctant junk shop had finally opened its doors. By now it was 12 o’clock.
After a bit of mooching around the place, trying out the rocker without seeming too interested and without rocking the thing into a pile of stuff stacked up behind it, we asked the owner why he hadn’t been open on Saturday.
“It’s not worth it really," he explained laconically. "Well I get up late and take the dog for a walk... then I have a coffee and a brandy.”
“How much will you take for the chair?” we asked after hearing this unusual take on business hours.
“Well as long as I get a drink out of it...” he mused.
So we haggled a bit and eventually bought the chair and took it home. Talk about a laid-back approach – and coffee and brandy for breakfast? I wonder what the dog has? Cornflakes? I’m sure there’s a story in there somewhere.