Yesterday I walked to Sainburys in the rain.
I did not particularly need anything. I am aware this means I am a person with limited horizons. But the sun had finally come out towards the twilight of the day and I yearned to walk but just not too far and somewhere where there might be some surprisingly reduced Brie I could purchase slightly too much of.
Then I can watch it for days spreading out of its wrapper gently conquesting, sliding oozily over what were once its neatly wrapped perimeters. I will go off it a bit as it will start its sophisticated stink but I will not want to waste it so I will continue to pop a bit in my mouth and declare it excellent whilst feeling a bit sick inside and looking with pleading eyes at the smooth neat corners of the Seriously Strong Cheddar. I want to be the sort of person who loves oozing Brie.
That sort of person has bookcases made of wood, not MDF and their socks are partnered in pairs in their underwear drawer. They probably host dinner parties where confident laughs spill out over the big wooden table.
But after day four, I will realise I am not that sort of person, the smell pervades over the fridge and in my mind, the whole house and along with my dreams of an aspirational future, it will be sunk quietly in the bin to do battle with the pooey nappies and I will pretend I have eaten it and enjoyed it.
And for four quid per kilogram, I will do it again.
I think Bob once had a dream too. He was described as the North West’s ‘ Top’ in red board marker and will be playing ‘tonight’ in this pub which stayed open for three months and soon the blu-tac will be pulled down along with his dreams and aspirations of a better ‘tonight!’ and he will be relegated into a rented skip along with long ago consumed bottles of Fosters Ice.
I fought the sharpened elbows to get to the reduced labels of victory and managed to get some Mexican Sweetcorn Dip reduced to 34p. I walked home along the quay triumphant but queasily thinking of the point when I would actually have to eat it.
I don’t like sweetcorn.
But for 34p I will do it again.
June 29th, 2013 at 7:28 pm
My dear girl! What is Lancaster going to do with you? The forecast is sunny for Monday, so unpack that fancy Polaroid of yours and try looking up. It’s a beautiful city hidden under the ugly facades of your beloved pound shops. Those magnificent Victorian buildings boast ornate crenellations, decorative brickwork and the occasional ornate wrought iron embellishment. The few remaining Georgian houses are elegant, refined and beautifully British. Look at the doors, crowned with light giving fan windows, or if you look carefully around the few medieval ginnals
June 29th, 2013 at 7:32 pm
Whoops! I’ll finnish properly… There are are few seventeenth century buildings around, you just have to look. So just because you’re in a grump my dear girl, don’t take it out on this poor old city. She desperately needs somebody on her side!