My day of fun and stealing in the city

I wrote this a week ago, but decided to finish it up and post it here today.

Today has been a wonderfully lovely day for complaining about stuff. I needed to do stuff in town, so we decided to go into the city centre and enjoy ourselves amongst the teenage single mums, homeless people who abuse you when you don't buy the Big Issue, and families with far too many tattoos between them.

I went to Boots, which is the equivalent of Watson's (Hong Kong), or an Amcal Chemist (Australia). So, anyway, the point being, that if you spend 10 pounds there, you get a voucher and get an extra 5 pounds off your next purchase. But they won't let you do it at the same time, so I went and spent 10 pounds on "makeup", as the MATH calls it (Honestly, there is a Biiiiig difference between lipstick and bath foam, for any heterosexual males out there)

And THEN, I received the discount voucher, and so I had to go out of the shop, and then walk back in again, and then decide what else I wanted, and then line up AGAIN, except for I had to make sure that I wasn’t going to get served by the same girl, because then she would have just thought that I was an idiot. Too. Much. Hassle. Just to buy some “Makeup”.

And then we went into a Department store in order to use the toilets. I never actually buy anything there, because it’s way too expensive, but on the plus side, their toilets are really nice. And anyway, as we walked into the store, we went through the “Stop people from stealing stuff even though there’s a side entrance over there which is completely unmanned” bleepy things, and they started to bleep.

Now, obviously, I hadn’t actually stolen anything, so I just walked on regardless, but then I noticed a security guard standing at the entrance, who muttered something into the microphone attached to his shirt. Now, I like to think that he was saying “OK, it’s bleeped for this girl, so if it bleeps again when she goes out, then not to worry.” But I did get really worried that the people in the security room would be watching me the whole time I was in the shop, to make sure I actually didn’t steal anything. But then, I started freaking out, because all I really do is go in there, use the toilet and leave. So the security guards would be monitoring me while I pranced into the toilet and then out of the shop.

So, I had to engage in the elaborate charade which consisted of walking around, looking at expensive shoes and engaging in inane chatter with the MATH which went like this:

Me: Do you like shoes? I like shoes. I like shoes very much
MATH: What?
Me: Oh my god, that shop assistant is looking at me, Walk away.
WALK. AWAY.
MATH: Are you on drugs? I thought you needed to go to the toilet.
Me: LALALALALALALALALALA!!! I also think I need some Tea.
MATH: I hate you.

And then, in the bathroom, I had to rearrange my bag. Because I figured that if I was going to be stopped and searched because I set off the alarm, then it would make sense to have all of my prior purchases and their receipts in the top of my bag. So I duly rearranged everything.

But then I realised that my bag looked a bit too well-organised, and, if I was completely innocent, why would I choose to organise the contents of my bag?

So then I tried to re-re-organise my bag which would make it appear that my prior purchases, with the receipts neatly attached to them, had randomly happened to place themselves in the uppermost part.

And then I worried about whether it would appear that I had spent all this time actually re-arranging my bag in order to make it not look re-arranged. Then I cried.

So in the end I just fled the shop, the MATH in tow, trying to talk very very fast and look important. I also left through the side exit which had no bleepy thingys, and success!

Of course, now I don’t think I can ever go back to that shop, because they probably have a warrant out for my arrest.