I like shopping. Not groceries, trawl the aisles and chuck shit in
a trolley type of shopping. There is no joy in that. It just means that you use
up 2 hours of your life that you are never gonna get back and after the aisle
mooch you have to take all the shit home and shovel it into various cupboards
and of course clear out room in the fridge. Groceries is NOT shopping.
No I like wandering and having a
look and touching stuff and smelling stuff and trying to imagine if the stuff
would ‘fit in’, or sometimes more accurately if I would fit into it. I like the
artificial light and the ‘lie to me mirrors’ I like the aircon and space and
that it is ok to stop for a good long while over a coffee.
It’s interesting to stop and
watch the world go by. Sometimes it is funny and sometimes sad, but it is
always entertaining, perhaps especially so here at the Goldie cos there is an
odd mixture of locals and carefree holiday makers. People on hols just really
do leave their inhibitions behind. People get out in the malls wearing far too
little and are pleased to be sporting that truly ugly hat that they bought in
desperation from the chemist, the one that they will leave in their unit cos
they wouldn’t be seen dead in it at home. They go barefooted and bare arsed and
proudly present their serious sunburn and salt hair to the world.
I guess what I really like about
shopping here at the Goldie, is that even tho I am a local, I can get about
looking less than fab and pretend I am on hols. I can flip flop along with my
uncombed hair pulled back into an untidy pony bun, and know that I am virtually
anonymous, not a tidy, up myself, trying to impress the white shoe brigade type
of local and not a tourist either.
I do enjoy a good old shopping
mooch around.
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