Heritage Day has come and past, and as per usual it was yet another public holiday well spent lazing around like a gigantic beached whale – though perhaps this was called for seeing as the rainy weather was as crappy as it was. We did of course not do nothing the whole day long though – we battled it out at Balloon Fighter and Ice Climber on the little Zoga, we watched some House and Legion of Superheroes, I fiddled with my computers and Chantelle made us a delectable steak dinner (there was no way we were going to braai in the rain on National Braai Day – besides, I still haven’t gotten around to replacing our rusted through braai yet anyway).
Oh, and a large chunk of the day went out to our fruitful(?) shopping expedition to the mall. Now for some crazy reason or another, the idea popped into my head that I need a nice suit jacket, because the one I have is too small for my shoulders and perhaps I should look smart every now and then – and the jacket should be the ticket to my smartness!
Of course, Chantelle was more than keen to join in when she heard this strange request to go shopping emanating from my lips, and so yesterday afternoon saw us beating away competitor cars and car guards as we jostled to find a parking space in a packed mall parking lot. Finally, after giving my last opponent the evil eye stare down and securing my spot with a wicked reverse, we were up and in, starting what was destined to be a rather lengthy stroll down Somerset Mall.
Now admittedly I know very little about jackets. I know that I want one not too shiny, not too smart, but smart enough that it is a jacket. It must go with jeans and it must go with smart pants. Basically I’ll know exactly what it is that I want when I see it.
Funnily enough, we did actually eventually come across one that I liked, picked up, tried on, and then promptly put down when I learned its price – my quest for smartness has a price ceiling I’ll let you know. Suitably distracted from my jacket quest (and yes, ‘suitably’ was indeed a pun) by a sudden weakness and bout of light-headedness (clearly this shopping was getting to me – or I’m still ill, which makes sense when you consider all the medicine Chantelle seems intent on dosing me with), we were then forced to make a pit stop for some food and despite Chantelle’s worried protests that we should stop at the first place and get something in me, I marched onwards, walking directly to Subway’s counter and placing my order for a delicious Marina Meatballs sub.
Chantelle went for the Teriyaki Chicken (again) if you really must know.
For a change, eating didn’t really help all that much, and shaking it off (not literally), I got up and we continued on our quest, the goal of which now very much forgotten. Instead we ambled along, looking at all sorts of things, before a new idea popped into my head and I decided that I now need pants.
So with a new direction ahead of us, it was back to all the clothing shops, before deciding that Woolworths was in fact the only location of choice actually available to me thanks to my short stubby legs and the fact that they seem to be the only people who care, producing pants in two, clearly marked lengths.
As it turned out, once inside their doors it took almost no time at all for me to pick out a pair of black chinos, try them on (without falling over) and take them, though we were less lucky with the jeans as finding a pair to properly fit over my oversized trunk is proving difficult as it would seem that my required size is the exact same size that EVERYONE else in Somerset West desires!
However, my thirst to purchase something smart had at least been satisfied, and my quest for a jacket long since forgotten (much to Chantelle’s lament as she is adamant I pay the high price for the one we spotted at Markhams) and we returned home where I immediately began to feel better after chewing on some Chuckles.
Truly, chocolate does indeed cure all illness :)