“CORSON”: THE RULES
“CORSON” is a game for two players. Players must take the role of either the CUSTOMER or CORSON. The game is played in an old-fashioned hardware shop in Stockbridge, on the North side of Edinburgh. The play has competing objectives. If the player is the CUSTOMER, the objective is simply to buy any item from the shop. If the player takes the role of CORSON, the objective is to prevent the CUSTOMER from making a purchase. Detailed rules follow:
1. The CUSTOMER enters shop and requests an item of hardware normally found in such a shop. Nails, screws, bolts and tools are all typical requests. Toasters, vacuum cleaners and other domestic goods are also acceptable requests. For a request successfully fulfilled by CORSON, the CUSTOMER scores 1 point.
2. CORSON cannot refuse a request for an item he has in stock at the time of play. He may however immediately refuse any request for an item not described in sufficient detail. For example: a request for ‘a nail’ may be refused on the grounds of insufficient detail. Likewise, ‘a toaster’ if it does not specify colour, design etc.
3. CORSON may also legitimately refuse a request on the grounds that the particular item requested is ‘not for sale’, although this move is permitted only once per round.
4. After a failed request, the CUSTOMER is entitled to ask for one further item. The same rules apply.
5. If after two failed requests the customer has not succeeded, he must leave the shop at once. CORSON should smile enigmatically as the CUSTOMER leaves. CORSON scores 1 point. This outcome is of itself known as a ‘Corson’.
6. The ‘ladder’ rule. CORSON may choose to climb a ladder at any point to search for requested items. If CORSON deploys the ladder and fails to find the requested item, double points (2) are awarded. If as the resort of the use of the ladder, the CUSTOMER is successful, then double points are due to the CUSTOMER.
7. The ‘early closing’ rule. CORSON always closes on Wednesday afternoons and Sundays during which time the game may not be played. At any other time, CORSON is entitled once per game to close the shop in order to prevent a sale. No points are awarded to either party in this case.
8. The ‘Parrafin’ rule. The CUSTOMER is entitled, once per game, to ask for ‘parrafin’, an item which CORSON always has in stock. ‘Parrafin’ counts as a successful sale, but no points are awarded to either player in this case.
9. How long to play. The game is played on a weekly basis, over a decade. At the end of each decade, the CUSTOMER and CORSON add up the points scored. Whoever has the largest number of points wins. At this point, players traditionally switch roles.
10. Disputes, and further information. The long duration of the game makes accurate recording of play essential. A notebook for the purpose can be purchased from many retailers in the vicinity, but, it should be stressed, NOT from CORSON himself. Attempts to buy a notebook from CORSON cannot be counted as play. Disputes over play should be directed to The Adjudicator, Board of Corson, 30 Woodburn Terrace, Edinburgh EH10. The Board meets twice per year, and considers all reasonable requests. The Adjudicator also organises an annual Corson Ladder. Entrance to the Ladder is by invitation only, determined by the Board on 1 March each year.

Reblogged this on urbanculturalstudies and commented:
Not an academic post, exactly, so forgive me. But it is about the peculiarities of living in an unusually settled city with its own (very) peculiar rules. The game described here is real enough, although CORSON is unaware it’s being played. More seriously, it draws attention to the strangely dilapidated character of one of Edinburgh’s wealthiest areas. Sharon Zukin, when I took her around recently found it very hard to understand. It all looked ‘poor’, she thought. I have to agree, though there’s plenty of money squirrelled away.
this post made my day, I’m picturing the scene–I mean round of play–in great detail…
Brilliant. When I moved to Stockbridge from America Corson was the first person I met. I thought getting over the culture gap was going to be epic!!!
Pure genius! I have been to the place in question and can attest to the accuracy of your rules.
Thanks for all the comments. I can report that the 15 Sept resulted in a disappointing points-free draw. Corson deployed reg. 7 (early closing) frustrating our attempt to purchase a piping nozzle. Regular updates on twitter rjwilliams44
I am crying with laughter as I was unaware I had been playing Corson for some time. How many points do I get for the refund on a wrench I negotiated 6 months ago?
Jenny has submitted a most interesting question. At first sight, this would seem to me to be a whole new rule. The difficulty of the pay here has to merit 2 points for the player, in theory. There would need to be a play of equal value for CORSON. I have passed the matter to the Board of Corson, who have set up a working party.
I was in there recently when an elderly couple wanted to buy some rodent killer. One of them was holding a packet that featured a dead mouse on it. They asked CORSON if it killed mice. He took it from them, pointed at the mouse on the box and said ‘WHAT’S THIS?’
More proof, if needed of Corson’s genius. The conflation of the Real and the Symbolic in this instance would be, in another, indicative of low intelligence, or possibly, madness. But in Corson, it is clearly another tactic to win the ongoing struggle with the customer. The schematic mouse on the box, once in Corson’s literal hands, shifts from being merely indicative, to being representative in the most total sense. To put it another way, in the customer’s hands, the drawing suggests ‘a’ dead mouse, unspecific in location and type. In Corson’s hands, the drawing is ALL dead mice, throughout the world – the Ur-ToteMaus, whose lifelessness is simply beyond question. Thanks, Nick!
This raised a titter, many thanks .
I may throw a Corson curve ball by taking my dog in this weekend ….. take that with your grubby *no dogs* sign.
Thanks, Sheila. Let me know how you get on. The last round of CORSON (27/10/12) saw an early afternoon attempt to buy scouring pads, frustrated by another tiresome application of rule 7 (‘Early Closing’). Nul points all round, yet again.
My partially deaf flatmate went in once and was promptly bullied out of the shop by Corson getting very annoyed and shouting at him like a British holidaymaker on a French caravan site, trying to make himself understood. I feel bad now I realise Corson was just trying to score points in this game, we thought he was a ****
It’s a tough old game, alright…
Hilarious!
It’s really very serious. People have nearly come to blows over it. See Gareth’s comment below.
Set out today for some halogen bulbs, tempted by Corson’s advertising:
But he was closed! So I was truly Corsonned. Took a moment to admire his Christmas window display, though:
Customer (me): I would like a replacement bolt for…
Corson (quickly cutting me off): Bolts? Oh no, we don’t do bolts…
I leave shop, Mr Corson smiles his famous smile
This was about 5 years ago – I always wondered what was going on – now I know! I was Corsoned!
Only a half Corson, though, since I only made one request before leaving the shop in confusion, wondering if I was the one mistaken for thinking that a hardware shop might stock bolts of some description…
Many thanks for that memory. Classic move under rule (2) – refusal under grounds of lack of specificity. Corson’s anxiety to cut you off is indicative of his awareness of the risk involved in the move. He knew perfectly well, in other words, that you could have made a successful refined request, with more detail. But not if you were outside the shop. A quick and dirty move, but a good one – for him.
Some years ago I was “Coronsed” on my first and last visit to the shop. I asked for a packet of self tapping screws and he glared at me and said, “You won’t get that sort of screw in this shop.” And he walked away leaving me non-plussed!
Of course not knowing the rules I did not know that I had just been Corsoned,
I’ve been in there several times and had him go down stairs for stuff. I think there’s a downstairs in the back. He disappears for a while.
How many points do I get for this?
Looking forward to his Christmas window display. I think Harvey Nichols steal his best ideas.
I roared with laughter at the one by Nickholdstock – I’ve had a very similar reaction!
On reflection, is this a very clever advert by Corson himself, to drum up business? He certainly gets very little of it usually. I’ve been going in there occasionally for years and never met any other Corson contenders.
After moving to Stockbridge in 2009, I popped in there to browse. Big mistake. Asked him when he was open until. Even bigger mistake.
Excellent. We are veteran players of Corson having lived in Stockbridge since 1976 (i.e. long before it became a theme park).
I am perplexed that no mention is made of the following:
1. When you open the door to Corson’s he simultaneously slides out from an area at the back right. When you leave he slides back into it.Try opening and closing the door rapidly a few times and you will see this effect in action.
2. Use of the word ‘Nope’. When a customer asks for an item Corson can end play immediately with the use of this word said curtly and with a definitive air. Corson scores 2 points and an extra one if he gets it in before you finish your request. Customer must leave the shop forewith.
Although ‘the smile’ does not as we know constitute a show of genuine humour or warmth it may interest players to know that years ago when the shop opposite Corson’s was occupied by a drunk tailor Corson could regularly be seen inside chatting and laughing uproariously. This has never been seen to take place at any other time or place. Ever.
Brilliant. Going into that place knowing exactly what you want can result in an almost transcendentally happy experience for all parties. But I will never forget my attempt to buy a bath plug in 2000. “I need a bath plug.” “Yes… Now, what size?” he asked, in a tone that suggested that I really was about to tell him (and hence know) the size, to the nearest sixteenth of an inch. “Well, if I could take a look at the different sizes, I’ll know which one I need.” And that is when my world turned to hell.