Because it doesn't cost me anything, I paid a visit to ("Richard Curtis Presents...") Notting Hill today. It has a good park.

It also has a few good music shops, and I went in to my favourite in search of the eternally elusive Decahedron LP. Decahedron are a very difficult band to categorise beyond 'angry rock', which isn't much help when you're in a shop that has different sections for general indie, US indie, punk, hardcore, alternative, and so on.

I looked through all of those sections (split over three floors), and as I did so I was kept entertained by the many hand-drawn notes and signs that sarcastically occupied pretty much every line of sight.

After my search was unsuccessful, on my way out I asked the guy at the counter (who was in the middle of some 'muso' coversation with another assistant), whether he knew of the Dechahedron album. As I know which label it's on, I was hoping he'd offer to try ordering it, like the nice people at Selectadisc did.

But no. "The what?" he asked, distracted. "What kind of thing is it?". Post-hardcore, I told him. "Well, there's a hardcore section right there. Go and look in it."

"I already did." I replied, but he didn't hear, as he'd already gone back to his conversation. His condecending tone was astonishing. I thought through the scene I could have made as I left. "Oh, the hardcore section? Oh! OH! My, I never thought to look in there! Oh thankyou, THANKYOU, oh it's bound to be in there! I'm so glad there are people such as yourself to offer me such helpful advice! Give this man a payrise!"

I know it's only a small thing, but it really did wind me up. Whatever my views on big chains like HMV, in my experience the staff have always been in the very least helpful and courteous.