SOME STORE!

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 101, 2 May 1938, Page 17

SOME STORE!

By PETER FABRIZIUS

Short Stories

I WANTED to smoke. "A box of matches, please," I said, ( »8 I entered the store. "Explosives, illuminations and fireworks, second floor on the right," was the answer. "We don't sell matches," I was told when I reached there. It was said in a slightly hurt tone of voice. "Will you have a lighter, with or without musical box : 'D o you remember last night at this time * . .'?" "\ou see ... I wanted . . . simply to light my cigarette . . . and ae I had not got a match . . ." "I understand.. With musical box." The man handed me my copy of the bill. I did not quite know what to do with the lighter. "There are now special pockets being made for these lighters inside coats." continued the salesman, chattily. "I will take you into the ready made clothes department, where I am sure they will be pleased to show them to you." ♦ ♦ ♦ *♦ Up I went in the lift. "A lounge suit for this gentleman, with lighter pocket." the assistant called out, banged the lift door end vanished into the depths.

"Xo," I said, "1 only want to see the pocket . . ." "I know-, with the lighter pocket," eaid a loud female voice in my ear. It was the ealeswoman. Then she pressed a button, the carpet was drawn from under my feet, and I fell on to a divan already prepared for my reception. The next moment 1 was undressed, an action carried out by an aseietent while I lay helpless. The saleswoman smiled at me. "Beautiful,"' said.

I smiled at the saleswoman. "Beautiful," I said. The marriage department was a floor higher. After we had both signed a declaration we were married. "What is your name, Miss?" I asked, ae we went down the etairs. "In the first place I am no longer 'Miss," , she answered, rather more sharply than was seemly for a bride. "Secondly, you must have eeen my name on the declaration form. Thirdly She tripped on a etep and broke her neck. A lift boy opened a door: "Mourning department next to the marriage department!" he whispered discreetly in my ear. ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ After I had paid for a firet-class funeral the graveyard in the forecourt of the store possessed one more tombstone. The inscription was: "Elizabeth K , nee Kobinson." One may often find out one'e wife'e maiden name by subterfuge. I left the etore a widower.

At the etreet corner stood s blind man selling matches. I bought a box and then found that I had left my cigarettes in my old suit. I went back. Then I loft the "Up-to-the-moment" Store for the second time. Now I was the possessor of a vacht, an electrically driven rocking chair and a membership card for a society for promoting chameleon hunting in the Transvaal. I had forgotten the cigarettes.