Ok. So picture this. I’m walking ’round downtown looking to buy me some kind of footwear. There’s a shoe shop at 3 o’clock with a coffee vendor outside. “Black, no sugar. Say, you got any bourbon under the counter?” She don’t bite.
I keep walking down the street, in my old shoes. The reason I’m looking for shoes is there’s a surprising smell in my apartment. First I figure it’s the previous tenants discarded nachos, or maybe just a dead body. Then I realize the smell hangs around every place that I hang around. Wait, I know that smell. Mildew. Musk. Yeah, I had this once before. I carefully remove my left shoe and take a look under the hood. My sole’s got a hole in it. All the rain and dirt got trapped inside and now it’s emanating toxic gasses into my new apartment. I need new shoes.
Now, the last time I bought me some footwear I had to buy the box. I take the shoes up to the counter, broad tells me I gotta bring the box up to the counter too.
“I don’t wanna buy the box, I got plenty of boxes lady, I just need shoes.”
“Well, you need to take the box otherwise we can’t sell you the shoes”.
That was California.
This is England.
Not New England.
They don’t put shoes in boxes, they ask you if you want a bag.
“No, I want a box. They’re shoes, put them in a goddamn shoe box.”