Fag Hag Diary


In which our heroine is suspected of light-fingeredness…

Can we help you, madam?

I nearly became the Winona Ryder of WC2 yesterday after a most unfortunate incident in Urban Outfitters…

So there I was, perusing (with some disdain I might add) the grubby old student garb on the rails when I spotted a little mini cardy: ‘Mmm, that’ll be handy for cleaning the car,’ I thought, dumping my bags on the floor to try it on mid-store. Well honey, I’m hardly going to queue with the Media Studies undergraduates for a changing room.

Suddenly, as I’m admiring myself in the mirror, a foetus with a head-set and hair like David Sylvian walked over. ‘Everything OK?’ she said, accusingly, fixing me with an icy camp commandant glare. ‘Yes, everything’s fine,’ I said, trying on another size. By this time the foetus camp commandant had positioned herself directly opposite me and was giving me what can only be described as evils.

‘Everything OK?’ I snapped at her, haughtily, as she went red. ‘Or do you think I’m about to steal one of your student tops? How dare you little girl. As if…’ And with that, like the Wicked Witch of the West, I was gone. Try that shit on me in Prada, fine. But not in Undergraduate Outfitters.

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2 comments to “Fag Hag Diary”

  1. Hahahahahaha that’s hilarious!!! I’ll never look at the trouts working in that store the same way again!

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  2. Yeah, but I note that you don’t actually admit to taking the cardie off, did you, you TEEF!

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