I know you like to use your own freaky sizing system for your clothes, and what a lot of fun that is. When you approach me, though, and ask if I need help with said sizing system, please feel free to take me at my word when I say "no". There is really no need to come back five minutes later and ask me the same question again.
While we’re on the subject: I generally do not require assistance within seconds of walking through the door of a store. It’s nice of you to care so much, but seriously, it takes at least five minutes for me to locate a pair of jeans I like, and another five to discover that although you have ten huge piles of these jeans sitting there to be rifled through, none of them are in my size. So when you assail me as I pass through your door and ask me if I need help, please try to wait at least ten minutes before asking a second time. The whole "interrupting me every couple of seconds" thing gets old really quick…
Also: why is everything size 14 in your store? WHY?
Thanks, Gap! Love you!
I mean, I really shouldn’t complain. At least it’s better than the stony-faced silent treatment I get in most other shops. Why, in my home town you can enter the supermarket, check through a full weekly shop, bag it all up, pay and leave – all without so much as making contact with the surly teenager on the till, let alone speaking to her! It’s the misanthrope’s dream. It’s someone’s dream, anyway. Just not mine.
Today I have three articles to write for the Edinburgh Evening News, so, naturally, what I did was, I jumped in the car and went shopping instead. I didn’t buy anything. The problem with our town is that the main shopping centre is a huge designer outlet mall, which means that instead of selling real clothes, that people would actually wear, they mostly sell off old stock from two seasons ago, that wouldn’t even sell then. It’s either that or clothes for teenagers, in fabrics which, to quote my mum, "you could spit peas through".
The end result of all of this is that the endless hunt for new jeans continues. Because I know you’re all desperately interested in this, I will keep you updated, never fear.
The main reason for today’s un-shopping trip, though, wasn’t the lack of a decent pair of jeans in my life, or even the need to procrastinate when faced with a deadline. No, I just had to get out of the house, and the reason I needed to get out of the house? Well, three days ago, Terry went downstairs to let the dog out, and decided to just rip up the kitchen floor while he was down there. As you do. Note the "three days ago" part of the above sentence. The kitchen floor is still in it’s "ripped" condition. Yes, part of the floor has been replaced, but only part, and to a neat-freak like myself, the ensuing dust and mess that surrounds this project is just. too. much.
Terry tells me the floor will be finished "soon". Meanwhile, in my travels to the town centre, I did discover that a Starbucks has just opened there. Small mercies, and all that…