Sat Naff

Just how many times in your life were you right on top of success, triumph, victory, smug superiority  and finding that jar of harissa paste in the supermarket when…….wait for it…….you gave up?
Today I went to Saintes guided by my sat naff. My mission was to find a bicycle spoke. Now you may think this is not the kinda thing that ROMANTIC NOVELISTS and POETS do. Quite right – they don’t. Sat Naff knew even less than I did. Somewhere near an Ibis hotel and a roundabout on a Zone Industrielle in France there is a bike shop. It is still there……like a dream, like a gossamer web of desire, like a tender kiss of a bloody Greek God. And wherever it is- I couldn’t find it. And I GAVE UP.
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