Borders and Waterstone's sap me of the will to live
In this case, local means Borders. I needed to get hold of one book and two mainstream pop CDs. And I wanted to buy some book plates from Paperchase, which is a concession tucked in there.
Walk in and you are bombarded with the visual cacophony of three-for-two offers, TV chefs and Parky's biography. Of course they have a wide selection of books, but the place is such a jungle – Aldi is surely more of a pleasure to visit, and I don't say much there – that locating what you want is a nightmare, and as for an enjoyable browse, forget it.
I headed upstairs and tried to find the CDs. A staff member, appealed to, said, candidly, "Our music selection is terrible." No go, then. I tried for the book, edging my way towards the relevant section, where the shelves were full of misshelved volumes and a mess. It wasn't there. I talked to the staff member again (who gets full points for being pleasant). He found the book on the computer, where it registered as "in stock", but he couldn't locate it on the shelves. He told me that the system did not necessarily reflect reality. Bookplates - well, forget it. The assisant I spoke to didn't know what the word meant.