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.