Una tal señora Dalloway

Monday evening. Lina enters the bookshop and stands gaping in awe at the size of the shop and the seemingly infinite number of books on the shelves. Helpful girl approaches her with a big, friendly smile.

Girl: How can I help you today?

Lina: I'm looking for Mrs. Dalloway.

Girl: Is that a book?

Lina: (repressing all sorts of ironic comments) Yes.

Girl: (typing) M I S S E ... (to me) Is that the spelling?

Lina: (must.not.snap) No, it's M R S D A L L O W A Y

Girl: Oh, sure. Back row, they're sorted by author in alphabetical order. Just tell me if you need any more help.

Lina: (...) Ok, thank you. Will do.


On behalf of mankind, I'm so sorry Mrs. Woolf.