NATURAL SHOPPING TENSION

There are less than 2600 shopping days left till the end of the world.

I don’t know if that’s a cause to celebrate or bemoan, but according to the Mayan calendar it’s all over come November 2012.

I hate shopping. I’ll be out there on the streets along with all the other burn outs, wishing for it all to end. But not today. I’ve got this list see. It’s a shopping list. Stuff to buy that I never would if it were me.

Which it isn’t. Me: I’m all Basic Buy this and Pocket the Difference that myself. But not Lucy. She’s more a Buy, Buy, Buy this and Taste the Difference that kind of a woman. Not that she has two sheckles to rub together of course. Not two sheckles of her own that is.

When I look at the organic display all I can see is my monthly allowance for the kids going down the pan. Literally turned to shit and gone. Look here!: Honey from Australia. So they ship this stuff 13,000 miles so as we can taste a hint of nuts and citrus. How delicious can it taste when it’s my balls being squeezed. I’ve got a long, long, long shopping list here. Yes.

Somewhere in it I expect to find scribbled a warning. Between the avocado and mozzarella there’ll be a “careful James. Don’t piss mummy off too much” all broken up so the casual observer might take it for a list of herbs. “Just add a little Careful James and Comfrey before serving.” Maybe that’s pushing it a bit. What would “Mummyoff” be? Something Russian perhaps. What do you think? Russian?

It’s different buying for the kids. You ask them what they want then buy the acceptable version. They know my boundaries by now. They know I have limits beyond which I get cranky.

But adults have all become Shoguns and cheaper versions of Humvees. They bulldoze through and smash you down. With this list it is imperative that I get it right. That’s very very important. There is a particular kind of parmisan and if I fail to find it, it could spoil everything. It will be the wrong sort of cheese and that will mean pain. But how could I ever have managed to end up in this situation, cheese and pain all blended together?

It’s largely my fault. I know that. Naturally I do. If someone’s sitting in shit, there’s a fair chance it’s theirs.

In my case I took what I thought were a couple of easy options way back and this is how it has panned out. Those religious freaks talking about the straight and narrow turned out to be right after all. Is that irony or is it simply life?

So, look at me. Go on. Take a quick look. You’ve seen me before haven’t you? Here I am now standing in the middle of Hades Delicatessen on 4392nd street Fucksville London with the kids, three weeks before Christmas, looking for the life of me every inch the family man. Folks nod and smile, as though my wife were just round the corner getting her hair done. And here I am pushing all this stuff. All these possessions out in front of me in a cage on wheels.

All this life, food, kids. The invisible wife. None of it mine.