In order to make space to walk across the floor, I decided to take about 40 LPs to the Oxfam shop. They are heavy and slippery but I got them into my car, and I'd already found out from the PDSA shop that you can leave your car on a double yellow line with the lights flashing if you're dropping stuff off at a charity shop. I parked, I flashed, a kind motorist stopped as I negotiated the sliding vnyl tower out of the car and across the road, balancing and tottering. I got through the heavy glass door successfully; the charity shop man was approaching, a condescending smile on his face...
I caught my bag strap on the door handle and the whole lot collapsed and cascaded all over the floor in a many-hued display of redundant albums that nobody in their right mind would want to purchase in a million years
I smiled a ghastly smile and my teeth dried up and I couldn't get my upper lip down again.
A woman took pity on me and helped me gather them up again.
I have been dropping off my embarrassing unwanted items in a rota to different charity shops so that they don't twig that actually I am having trouble throwing my precious rubbish away and I need them to do it for me!
I have finally been found out, my wares spreading themselves out in full unwantable view of a whole shopful of customers. No more leaving black bin bags full of old stained tupperware at the back of the British Heart Foundation shop! No more piles of cream polyester pillowcases crammed into fancy baskets dumped in the North London Hospice!
Writing this post has made me blush with embarrassment.
I feel as though I have been found out