You walk into the music shop, to be greeted by some rock music with an unusual syncopated off-beat rhythm with uncharacteristic rubato. As you try to recollect having ever heard that particular rhythm in rock music, you attention is drawn to a bath in the corner, in which a blond man is sat. He reminds you of someone, you're not sure who but think he might have been an australian neighbour of yours. He stops tapping his foot and looks up at you; at the same time the syncopated off-beat rhythm dies and leaves the rock music in a more traditional setting.

"Hi, how are you doing?" the blond guy exclaims rather over-enthusiastically.

"Erm, fine," you reply as your brain comes to terms with a bath in a music shop. "I'm new round here - just looking round really," you tell him once your head recovers.

"Welcome then," he says, "Can I interest you in anything here?"

"Not sure really - have you got anything I'm likely to like?" you ask, not really knowing what to say.

"Yeh, yeh - listen to this," he says, and with a quick flick of the wrist turns the rock off and puts a new cd in to play. "It a great new local band - they're going to hit it big really soon, but you can have a copy of their music before they become famous for a knock-down price." The music starts, and before more than a bar of two have passed, the blond man continues, "They're called Dromedary, good aren't they?"

"Isn't that a camel?" you ask, "Didn't know camels could play music... ...does the music have its ups and downs, or something?" you muse, trying to work out a link between an Arabian racing camel and the music scene.

Blondie doesn't seem to hear the question, he's too engrossed in the music, and his foot is starting to tap again, so you leave him and look round a bit more. There is some imported sheet music in the corner which you flick through - some sort of psalm, and some unfamiliar words for both a hymn tune and rock song. A listening post offers strains of How Hard Can it Be? and Ode to Ken Todd's Blue Jumper.

Suddenly the postman pops into the shop, to hand the owner a small envelope. He opens it, and goes a little red as he reads what it contained. You read the paper over his shoulder.

Deciding that the limited attraction of camels is waning, you leave after not too long.