Daft Old Duffer returns. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
As a male I like to think I do my shopping in an efficient manner. Pushing my trolley before me, I briskly march the supermarket aisles, picking up the weekly food supplies, plus any extras such as cleaning materials. Then I present myself at the check-out, enter my plastic and tap in my number with one hand whilst packing with the other.
Back at Chez DOD I swiftly transfer everything to its relevant cupboard, freezer or fridge, wasting no time or effort, before relaxing into my armchair with the warm feeling of a task well done.
Then the penny drops
Except when I realise I’ve forgotten something. Which happens rather more frequently than I’m prepared to admit.
And it’s no use telling me I ought to check before leaving the store, to think, to write everything down before leaving home.
None of that, as any man will tell you, helps in the slightest. If items decide to get themselves forgotten, forgotten they will be, and there’s nothing to be done about it.
Except cuss a lot. Or take a woman along as a back marker.
The day I forgot the Harpic
Last week forgot to pick up some Harpic (other brands are available ;-) Ed). Not essential, but I needed to change a library book, so I decided to pop into town and kill two birds with one stone.
Waiting for the bus however, I began to remember other items I’d forgotten in the past. Items I’d also resolved to leave ’til the next time I visited the supermarket. So I decided I might as well buy them as well, while I was about it.
Then there were the things I’d not only forgotten, I’d forgotten them so long ago, I’d forgotten I’d forgotten them.
And I decided I might as well pick them up as well
Ever-growing list
By the time the bus arrived I had a whole list of stuff to buy, a whole lot of shops to call at.
Not a written down shopping list, a mental shopping list, which, as far as the average man is concerned, is an oxymoron.
Then sitting on the bus I had to wrestle with another problem.
A problem of logistics.
Where to go first?
If I did the shopping first, and then called at the library, I would have to select a book whilst wrestling with at least one bag, probably two, my specs case and where on earth had I put my library card.
On the other hand, if I chose a book first, it would almost certainly be a heavy one – or two – and I would be forced to tote it about whilst I struggled in shops with my card, my specs case and – well you get the picture.
Guess what I’d forgotten
In the event however, that particular worry resolved itself by the time I reached my stop.
I had forgotten to bring along the book I wanted to return.As well as the library card.
So I was left with the relatively minor mental exercise of deciding the order in which to call at each shop.
Bearing in mind that it would be foolish to buy the bulky items first and then have to cart them about when I searched for the smaller and lighter stuff.
Then there was the question of the relationship of said shops to the cash point, which I must not forget to call at first.
And what sort of shop sells Harpic, anyway?
Pointless
All in all I was attempting a task only a woman, with her lifetime of High Street maneouverings, could be expected to accomplish.
So you may well be surprised to learn that despite all obstacles my shopping expedition ended, some considerable time later admittedly, yet in success.
This Alpha male returned triumphantly home. Sweating a bit but content in the knowledge that once again, manly logic had overcome all problems.
My blasted memory
There remained only the library book task.
No problem. I would simply return by the next bus and finish my day’s chores smoothly and effortlessly.
Which I duly did.
Except that the library was closed. I’d forgotten – once again- that it was library closing day.
And I never did find the Harpic shop.
Image: john.schultz under CC BY 2.0
