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Why I Hate Shopping

April 02, 2004

Written by John Howe

Misadventures in the Land of Plenty

Why do I dread going shopping?
Especially for food (which admittedly is unwise if not downright idiotic).
I think my problem is concentrating. There’s just so much to look at in a supermarket that I forget the food; even a list clutched in my sweaty paw is no help focusing.
What! Only one Kinder Surprise egg in every package of three has a Lord of the Rings figurine? Lucky I brought an extra carrier bag.
Catastrophe! They’ve changed the label on my favourite meusli, why such an act of graphic treachery? Now there’s a horrid drawing of Heidi on the lid. I can’t buy that. The illustration is enough to make me lose my appetite. (Choosing the right colours for three scoops of ice cream can be a harrowing experience, especially for the lineup behind…)
Wine? I spend all my time looking at the the lovely labels and always buy the prettiest one. Sorry? I was supposed to get white? But this red one had such a great label! Maybe I better put the rest of the crate in the cellar, then? With all those, uh, other… cases of red we have too many of. Is it my fault if they make such seductive labels?
No, I forgot the liquid soap. Well, not really forgot, I mean there was only pink hand soap and the downstairs bathroom is blue. I did get toilet paper though. What? We haven’t room to store 6 packages of 20 rolls each? But I had to get them! Who knows when they’ll have blue in stock again? We’re still going through the trunkload of yellow? But that’s for the upstairs bathroom! We can’t use it downstairs. Damn, I forgot the yellow hand soap again.
Sorry? Why did I go all the way across town to buy groceries in the most expensive shop I could find? Well, you know those little tear-off plastic bags at checkout? This week they had blue ones, perfect for the corbeille in the downstairs bathroom…
And they had CLEAR hand soap too, so I figure if I mix it with the last drops in the dispenser, we’ll get quite a pleasant hue of pastel blue.

GANDALF

Went to meet Gandalf at the station last Sunday, which was exciting enough, but not so much as seeing Oscar unpack and assemble the statue. (He was in six pieces, in order to be carried, and even the Oscar had to battle tooth and nail to get the box admitted as carry-on.)
But, true to form, I of course forgot to recharcge the camera battery the night before, so waxing extatic seems a little silly without photos. Hopefully I’ll be able to put some up next week.
The statue is absolutely fabulous, by the way, and I have not a clue where we can put it. It is much bigger than I expected, perhaps we must start prospecting for a bigger house…
LOVELY DRAWING, MISTER LEE

Boy, I’m going to need professional help if this keeps up…
Not only does Alan steadfastly refuse to put on 30 lbs and dye his beard blue so people can tell us apart, but now even the illustrations get confused. (Actually, I’m not complaining, having your work taken for Alan’s is nothing if it’s not a compliment. Besides, he retorted that when I dye my beard pink he’ll do his in blue. My only solution; paint Gandalf with a pink beard from now on.)

OUT AND ABOUT

Next outing: signing books in Bellinzona, at the Taborelli bookshop, Saturday May 22nd, at 13h30.
For more info:
Libreria Taborelli
Via Camminata
6500 Bellinzona
tel 091 8262425
fax 091 8263346
MAIL

I am SO far behind on replying to mail that it’s frightening. I promise to try and catch up this spring, so my apologies to anyone who was written in the last 8 months or so…

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