It’s the music that gets me, the bloody piped music. Christmas carols on an endless loop. It’s a wretched constant, whether one’s in the supermarket, the station, the airport or even — and, good grief, is nowhere safe? — the doctor’s surgery, as I’ve just discovered.
‘How can you stand this?’ I asked the girl in the Santa hat at the supermarket checkout.
Disagree with half of it, enjoy reading all of it
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