Tuesday, April 17, 2007
it's not for me, it's for a friend.
| There are a few things that you don't want to be caught buying. Standing in a checkout queue, you feel so naked - you just know you're surreptitiously checking out each other's purchases. Loaf of bread? Aha, I see that hemmorhoid cream tucked away at the back there! I'm onto you. I had my moment today standing in the bottle-o clutching the neck of a 2 litre bottle of super-cheap Greek goon. Heck, it wasn't even a bottle, it was well and truly a flagon. Behind me was someone I vaguely recognised from uni, and it was only with the greatest self-restraint that I managed not to turn around and explain to him that I wasn't the wino I looked like. I'm sharing with friends*, really! It's all about context. At various times in my life, I've been ashamed to be buying underwear (I was 10 - for some reason it was mortifying), tampons (ok, awkward teenager), even some sort of overpriced trash from Supré (yes, in your stupid shop I'm apparently a size large). You'd think condoms would feature in that list but no, I'm quite happy for people to know I'm actually getting some. I don't mind people thinking that I might be having sex, but for some reason it does bother me that they might think I'm an alcoholic who's too fat to fit into a size XXXS. Stupid, yes, but there you have it. All I can do there is whip my bank card out with a flourish. Yeah, I'm buying two litres of wine, bitches - party at my house tonight. *'friends' may or may not be greater than one in number and/or invisible. |
posted by Enken at 3:39 AM
