Just a few daft observations of my late night shopping trip and general ponderisations! (yes I made that one up!)
Over Friendly Cashier of the Evening Award goes to...... The 12 year old who served me in Primark who asked me whether I had been shopping all day, where I worked, what I did, whether it was difficult, whether I liked i it, how much more shopping I needed to do and what time I was going home this evening. Erm. Bless your cheerful, pink-cheeked smiley little face but shh now and get on with it cos I want to go home!
Primark clothes are nothing more than jumble sale garments with tags on.
Number of renditions of Shakin' Stevens 'Merry Christmas, Everyone' heard: 3.5
There appears to be a preponderance of nasty acrylic jumpers and cardigans on sale, the likes of which were worn by me Nan circa 1987 however appear to currently be the height of fashion. Why?
If you require a specific item from a specific shop there is a written guarantee somewhere out there that there will be a gap on the shelf where your specific item once resided and will remain so for the duration of your shopping trip. All other goods either side of the gap where your specific item once resided will, of course, be in plentiful supply.
We are apparently on the brink of a triple dip recession however at 8pm this evening the amount of shoppers at our local shopping centre could have rivalled the crowds there on Saturday afternoon. The shops are all open until 12 midnight for the whole of this week. The world has has gorn mad.
I haven't a clue what presents I have got left to get. Methinks next year a different plan of attack is required. Beginning with something sensible. Like a list. Maybe.
Number of pairs of insane novelty slippers purchased in last week: 4 Number of pairs of insane novelty slippers left to purchase: 3. (There is a method in my madness in the purchase of said insane novelty slippers which shall be revealed post C-word day).
Note to self. Do not go late night shopping again prior to C-word as you know that you would rather eat your own elbows.