Knickers

I need some new knickers. There's no Marks and Spencers. This has been playing on my mind all day.

I came up with a plan to ask each of my girlfriends to buy and send me a single pair of knickers. This would not cost too much, I thought. It might amass a dozen pairs of knickers and would also sort the wheat from the chaff (if you'll pardon the expression) as I'd find out who'd send me a pair from Marks and which cheapskates would try to pass off something from BHS.

The problem with this scheme is that our letterbox is miles away from the flat. It only fits thin letters; everything else goes back to the post-office for collection, so a dozen pairs of knickers equals a dozen trips to the queue at the counter.

And then I remembered the time one of my friends roped me into a chain-letter involving the purchase of a pair of knickers for somebody else. The system was supposed to get you fourteen pairs of knickers but I came off badly because I only received one. I'd been scammed. The problem was, the pair I did receive came from my friend's mother. They were hideous. After that, every time I saw her, I saw the sort of knickers she was wearing.

For all your sakes, I'll go to K-Mart