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  • fucking chancers.

    the shopgirl spun a line about 'usually our customers ask up-front if they want us to keep old strings' do they, fuck, you've half-inched them! it's not like they were anything special but a spare's a spare.

    He did offer to huffily 'go and find some old strings lying about if you really want' but by that point i was fucking livid and gearing up for a power-flounce out the shop.

    Still, did a bang up job setting up my bass.

    moral of the story: avoid the bass gallery in camden.

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