Salt and the wound

Went to Ocean Terminal yesterday to see Sherlock Holmes and do a bit of general sales shopping.

Agreed with Mr Song that I would go to Clintons and he would go to HMV and we would meet in the middle.

Where I actually found him was having his hands washed in the middle of the centre by a rather attractive Israeli (as she later informed me) lady with 'Red Sea Salt Scrub'. When I appeared she went on to tell me what a wonderful, funny boyfriend I have, HUGGED HIM (I'm NOT a jealous person) and quickly tried to make up for it by cleaning my hands too.

Unfortunately, she spent more time looking at him than my hands and this is what happened. Attack. Outright attack. To be fair, I didn't notice it until 2 hours later but now it really really hurts.

Needless to say he shelled out £60.00 on the lovely ladies wares. They better be good...