Even the most cerebral of us can go a little giddy in the January sales – but a friend of mine has to be admired for going the extra mile. A mature student of something very complicated and science based she is, in short, very clever. And, in common with most very clever people, she’s sometimes a little wrapped up in analysis of particular academic challenges as she toddles through the diminished section of her day devoted to ‘just being.’
It makes you want to tie a bit of wool to the door handle and hand her the rest of the ball before she leaves home – every time.
She made a recent foray into the city centre for some student-finance level sale browsing. So, for example, just looking at the muffins in Café Nero, inhaling au du expensive handbag at Selfridges, that kind of thing.
One store however had savings of such scale that even she ventured inside prepared to buy – and, as it turned out, try.
The store is one of those that have a women’s bit … and a men’s bit. My, super clever amigo’s jaw dropped when she clapped eyes on a dark cherry coloured basque reduced from £stratospheric to fourteen quid. Had to be done. And buy it she did. After trying it.
She grabbed the hanger and marched purposefully up to the changing rooms. There was a man lingering. Giving him a filthy look that clearly said ‘pervert’ she whipped past and into a curtained cubicle. The basque was one of those very complicated back fastening jobs. It was on, looking great, but a couple of fastenings were 50 shades of unfathomable, she needed help. So clutching the curtain across her basqued chest she leaned out to request help from a lady loitering just outside the entrance (pervy man still in attendance). Said lady responded with ‘What are you doing in here? This is the men’s changing rooms.’ Pervy man just offered a smile that conveyed both ‘I told you so’ and ‘You’re wearing that basque aren’t you?’