Retail wretchedness.

I hate shopping ! … I don’t mean the weekly trip around Sainsbury’s as I do that on autopilot. I mean those … “I need a new dress and shoes” …  expeditions.

In the old days when my wife would look for clothes in high street shops it wasn’t too bad, for I knew that she would be in the changing room for ‘hours’ and I could nip along the road to the nearest pub for a pint: after which I could return to the store, knowing that her selections would all fit her perfectly.

Today parking in town centres is a bloody nightmare, so it’s off to one of those out of town shopping malls. It doesn’t matter which one as they are all the same, and there is not a pub in sight: just ‘Starbucks’ or ‘Costa’, and although a fancy coffee costs nearly as much as a pint, I prefer my ‘froth’ on top of a nice cold beer.

Now I have to hang around outside the changing rooms and lurk amongst the displays of  ladies undies, trying not to look like a pervert, as I await that … “Does my bum look big in this?” … moment. Well several such ‘moments’ actually.

I have to give my wife her due as she hates this ritual just as much as I do, which is unusual as most women seem to enjoy the … ’shop ’til you drop’ … experience. In fact on our recent cruise, shopping seemed to be the big pleasure for many ladies who were thrilled to discover branches of Marks and Spencer and C & A in many of our ports of call.

I know people who look forward to a … ”nice day out at the shops” … and actually enjoy those ‘plastic’ sandwiches and expensive pots of tea as they sit in an uncomfortable crowded cafe in some noisey atrium being serenaded by that awful ‘mall music’.

I can sense a … “summer skirt” … moment approaching.

Pass the catalogue and …

… “Yes Dear, you can order on line”.