A man who spent an entire afternoon browsing ‘half-heartedly’ at the shirts in Charles Tyrwhitt’s flagship store in London’s Jermyn Street has admitted he was only there to hear someone say the name ‘Tyrwhitt’ out loud.
“We get all these leaflets and inserts from Charles whatsisface through the post and I’m tired of saying to the wife ‘just some more rubbish from Charles thingummy, dear’, and her saying ‘who?’ and me going ‘Trywhite, tirrywitt, trrrHitt, tyreRwhite’, and her getting worried about me.”
“So I decided to find out how you said the name of the person whose leaflets account for most of the stuff in our recycling bin. Unfortunately, not a single customer came in so I was unable to witness any conversations about this twirrit shirt or that tirriwrit tie. I thought my luck was in when the assistant mistook me for someone genuinely interested in the range of middlemanagerwear on display, but when he said it was one of Charles Wossname’s biggest sellers, he sort of mumbled the wossname bit.”