When I say “I’m going to the shops” what I actually mean is that there is something specific that I want to buy. I get in the car, drive to whichever shop sells what I want, buy it and come home again.
When Mrs and Miss P say the same thing, they mean that they’re about to disappear for several hours to meander around the shops until they spot something they want even though they didn’t realise it until then.
This observation of male/female shopping habits will have been made before on thousands of blogs probably because it tells us something about the human condition. What is surprising is that today I agreed to join them.
The reason was that shopping expedition was to look at possible replacement sofas for our living room. Sorry, but when it comes to expensive soft furnishing, well I like to have my two pen’orth.
We took ourselves off to one of those soulless retail parks where the sellers of sofas gather these days. What strikes you immediately is that to sell furniture, you need an apparently randomly chosen trio of letters for a trading name.
There was DFS, “Great Design Needn’t Cost the Earth” according to Modesto Scagliusi and co, although you could have fooled me. Then there was SCS who prefer to rely on one of the Kray Twins for product endorsement.
Next came another set of initials, but for the life of me I can’t recall what they were because by then the stores were blending into one. The same furniture, same displays, similar prices and all with “Sale Must End Today” posters. We’ve always been lucky in that regard, never failing to visit furniture stores when the sales are on. (That’s irony by the way.)
Anyway, we left empty handed despite the salesman’s best efforts. “We can deliver in time for Christmas you know.” I should bloody think so — that’s three months away. So it’s back to the lumpy sofa, at least until the next trip to the ‘sales.’