And you know what? I didn’t go mad. I didn’t call SJ bending her ear letting off steam.I didn’t foam at the mouth.

Remember, I don’t live where I work, I have to make the journey in especially whenever a client makes a booking. So I spent a fiver on a return journey to Victoria, got to the apartment, but something told me not to get fully dressed, or undressed in my case. So I just put on my cami top and my sussies. I didn’t break out the new pair of stockings out of their packaging  just yet, I thought I’d wait for the phone call. Which didn’t come. He didn’t cancel, as I asked him to do when making the booking. Just didn’t turn up.

But like I said, I didn’t get mad. I sighed, mumbled oh well underneath my breath and got changed again and left. Even when I got to the station and my train was cancelled (sound familiar?) at rush hour to boot, I didn’t snap, I just got the fast train to East Croydon and caught the slow train back to my regular station. And  time-wise I wasn’t too much later than if I had caught the cancelled train anyway.

I stopped and picked up some fish n’ chips for dinner and came home just in time for one of my favourite shows on the telly, Judge Judy.

So no, not mad at all. Too much of a waste of energy. But I have allowed myself the luxury of keeping the no-show’s number in my phone under something unmentionable, just in case the chap thinks it’s a good idea to try and call and make another booking he has no intention of turning up to.

Except it wasn’t the bag, it was the bloomin’ wallet. I had forgotten I’d bought the wallet at the same time I bought my bag, but because the wallet was inside the bag I didn’t think it could be that.

I was in my local shopping centre again this morning and sure enough, I was beeped as soon as I walked into Marks. I thought, okay, enough is enough, as much as I like the bag I’m not going through with this for the next how ever many years. I was finding myself actually tensing every time I walked into a shop.

When I got home I called Fossil, where I bought both the bag and the wallet and explained that I keep setting off the security scanners in shops. The kind lady explained that I may still have tags on them. It doesn’t have to be a big tag, she explained, it can be a small rectangular tag. I searched and searched. I couldn’t find anything on my bag, but hey presto, there was a small tag inside my wallet. I ripped it out and did a small jig of happiness.

No more bleeping wallets, no more bleeping bags…well, we’ll see on Thursday when I go to Tesco’s to do my weekly shopping.

Tell you what though. I didn’t bleep with every shop I went into, Sainsbury’s being one of them. Makes you think, doesn’t it?