Tale the first: The man with the pointy nose

One day a man arrived in my hat shop, a strange little man, with a long pointing nose like a goblin.

I knew at once he was American, because when he spoke he sounded American.

 “Tell me” said the strange man, hopping from one leg to the other, like someone who needs a wee, “Is this the famed hat shop of which I have heard so much? The famed hat shop of which the villagers speak for miles around? The famed hat shop where the strange and wondrous is said to occur?”

I stared at him curiously for a moment

“No, I doubt it. It’s probably the other hat shop just down the road”

“Oh, right. Ok thanks” he said, and went on his way.

A short while later he returned, still with the same pointing nose, pointing at me like a pointing finger…except it was a nose.

“Are you sure I should go to the shop down the road?” he enquired, “Only they said I should try over here.”

“Ah” I replied, “That’s the game they play, you see. First they lure you in with the promise of adventure, coaxing you, charming you with their enticing hat display full of colour and possibility… and then they dash your hopes upon the pavement, making you oh, so very sad. Then they sell you a silly hat to compensate for your disappointment.”

I noticed then that he was wearing a ridiculous hat he had not been wearing before.

“Was that a recent purchase?” I enquired.

He looked a little flushed, like a toilet.

“What, this old thing? Oh, no no no, I, er…won it in a raffle. I had wanted to win the apple crumble baked by Mrs Biggins, but my brother Alan won it instead, and ate the whole thing, the bastard.”

I was a little shocked by his sudden use of the word ‘Alan’

“Actually that’s a lie” he admitted, looking a little flushed, like a different toilet this time, a more modern one with a nice shiny handle

“They sold it to me in that hat shop. They said it was worth twenty pounds but I only paid ten.”

“That’s a good price” I said, lying through my teeth, because it’s much harder to lie through your feet. It’s much easier to lie to your feet, but why would you want to do that? Perhaps if you had been seeing some other feet on the sly, smaller than yours, with a nice manicure and no dead skin, and then you had to lie to your feet about where you’d been and…I digress.

“Do you see the little tuft it has on top?” he said

“Yes, it’s a nice tuft.” I replied.

 “Really?” he asked, obviously suspicious of my thinly veiled smirk.

“I was all ready to buy a smaller hat, but then they suggested this one. At first I wasn’t convinced, particularly this part here”

He pointed at an embellishment on the hat that looked distinctly like a dried poo.

“What, that part that looks like a dried poo?”

“Oh, I meant this feather” he replied, looking hurt

“Oh right”.

He sighed. “May I have a seat?”

“No” said I, “They’re not for sale.”

“Oh, right. Ok thanks” he said, and went on his way.

After a while he sidled back around the corner, and re-entered my shop of hats.

“Have you been waiting around the corner all this time?” I asked

“Yes” he said, “It was a bit boring really. But I wanted to make you think I had somewhere else to go.”

“Do you have somewhere else to go?” I asked, suspecting that the question was superfluous, given that if he had somewhere else go to he would have gone there, instead of waiting slightly around the corner, with his ridiculous hat still in view.

“No” he said, confirming my suspicions.

“Although yesterday I did go to a bakery. I bought a bun. It was so tasty”

“Yes” I substantiated, “Buns are tasty."

"Yes they are" he affirmed.

"My name is Jennifer Bun.” I pointed out.

“That’s a nice name”

“Thank you”.

We smiled together for a moment.

And then he went on his way.