Scratch

Here you will find older scratches, musings and other detritus that once were located on the front pages, but have now faded.

Filed away here to collect dust and cobwwwebs in perpetuity, links may break, facts may change and data may corrupt.

On occasion I may come down here to tidy, but for the most, I prefer to leave the past where it lies.

 

John Lewis

Wandering round John Lewis on Sunday and everywhere I looked there were gift list shoppers. With a few exceptions the majority were easily recognisable, characterised by two key elements:

• A women, head held proud, sweeping down the aisles, steamrolling over any obsticle (other shoppers included) inbetween her and a new matching set of bathtowels; and
• A small shambling shell of a man trailing in her wake, head held low grasping the last vestibule of his manhood in the form of a Palm Powered barcode scanner.

Whilst amusing at first, their plight was oddly Sisyphus-esque and as I watched them, the males that is, they could easily have been spirits drifting through the Asphodel Fields of the Underworld. I would have watched and formed greater opinions of the females but I needed to keep moving, concerned for my own personal safety as I was.

If you have time, and are interested in such rituals then after a small period of observance a pattern of behavour is clear.

The woman, having created a path to whatever shiny, glittery, fluffy or expensive item that currently took her interest, prowls, fending off other would be shoppers, tutting as she does so, waiting for her man to arrive.

As the man shambles forth, he lets out a sigh accompanied with small mumblings as the women directs his attention in towards the article of her affection. With a spark of recognition, perhaps even understanding, a small glitter of life springs into his jaded eyes, a hint of colour in his dull drawn cheeks as he looks at the object then the scanner. He slowly depresses the button, asserting his control, his technological mastery over the gagetery. Then, with a small beep to acknowledge another 'kill', the illusion shatters and is over, the women off to claim another victim. The life draining from the man before the red beam fades, his strength and will sapping, drifting off into the ventilation ducts.

Occassionally, there would be a problem or the device wouldn't work, and those a more caring side of the women would be shown, perhaps offering supportive words like 'It's ok, I don't mind or 'I'm sure its nothing, your under a lot of pressure, can I help?'. The more firm, forthright and domineering, would just stand and say 'Well, have you done it yet? I'm waiting'. Not even letting up when the first tear rolled down the cheek, and merely tapping her feet in time with the sobs.

I'm not keen on shopping so am not off to a winner and knowing that my moral dwindles as the day goes on, IMHO it would be much easier to do such things together and support each other. If you are gift list shopping for a wedding, one might consider it a bad omen (or perhaps a sign to run) if you can't achieve the relatively simple task of walking round agreeing what you like and scanning it, compromising where necessary, without any outside influences.

Just a thought.

31 May 2005 9:20 | (0) comments | Thoughts

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