Like most addicts I have become accustomed to smuggling stuff into my own house. In the old days it was bottles of Scotch or wine. More recently it has been a couple of hundred quid’s worth of CDs after a binge in HMV.
The trouble with CDs is that they take up so much space. Wandering round Cargo in Wimbledon the other Saturday I noticed a splendid chest of drawers for a mere £40 that would offer safe and stylish storage for some 400 discs. It was the work of a moment to snap it up and put it in the car. It was only when I arrived home that I realised the flaw in my plan. Fine to have this new unit to stash my illicit purchases, probably just about possible to get it upstairs without Mrs S noticing — she was in fact playing her cello, a new passion that gives her great pleasure but which in these early stages is causing serious suffering to her husband and son.
Get Britain's best politics newsletters
Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in