Then I was invited by Keith to accompany him to Manchester to buy stock for the shop. He really knows how to give a girl a good time, that man! So off we went. I hung around trying not to look terminally bored while he agonised over computer cables, padlocks and other such delights, before whisking him off to Borders for some book-spotting - proper shopping, you see!
Back in Wales, we called in at the shop to unload the booty, and here's where the day went sharply downhill.
"Are you only opening the shutter half-way up?" I enquired as he unlocked the door.
"Well, if I open it all the way, people will start coming in," was the reply.
Funny, I thought the lack of customers had been the big cause for concern during the week. However, mine not to reason why.
So, Keith toddled off into the back with some things while I charged, at my usual pace, back outside to unload more boxes...at least, that was the idea, but I got distracted by a broken sign to my right and failed to percieve that I had not lowered my head before attempting egress. Hence the reason for my sitting here for the last couple of hours feeling extremely sorry for myself and clutching an ice pack to the ostrich egg on my poor, bruised head.
And after the initial care and concern, what conversation do I get?
"Did you have duck for lunch today Ha, ha, ha."
(You'll be ducking yourself, my lad, when I get hold of you!)