Boots to tarts. Another gun shop episode. (not Phil's)
While visiting my daughter at uni I managed to get my wife into the local gun shop. Probably as its really close to my daughters house and I would only be a few moments buying a patch jag for my .22.
As we came out of the shop my wife noticed UGG boots in the window. For the fortunately uninitiated Ugg boots are sheep skin boots from Australia, they have lethal soles and as much ankle support as badly fitting slippers and they are the cost of a small terraced house.
Back in we went, not like me to be reluctant to enter a shooting establishment. Now to be fair the usual guy I deal with has always been spot on, today however an older chap was serving. I thought he might be the owner. A couple of other ladies and a bloke followed us into the shop.
A few pairs of Uggs were tried and a couple of questions asked, no problem.
But then the man serving turned to the other male customer and said very loudly
Im a gun dealer, I kill things, forty years in the business and I am reduced to selling boots to tarts.
I was stunned, the other two ladies walked out. My wife put down the boots, being rendered so angry as to be utterly speechless, a rare thing in any life time, but happen a good thing if much less interesting.
Now I am not particularly street wise or aufey with the local idioms or vernacular of this particular town but offence was taken and no purchase made. Unfortunately more expensive ones were found elsewhere.