Sunday, January 16, 2005

The Naked Truth

Its a sign of our advancing years that rather than discuss women, cars or a combination of the two, my colleagues and I sat in the pub after work talking about grocery shopping. My 18 year-old self would horrified.

The majority of us appear to shop with Tesco, a few cling loyally to Sainsbury's and then there was me. Waitrose man.

"Ooooo" went the collective. Camply. "You shop in the posh store."
"Indeed," I replied, "And I don't even enter the store. I have it delivered..."

Cue collective gasp. And justifiably so; I live 30 seconds walk from the store - a fact that always makes the delivery-man chortle as he struggles up the steps with the week's shopped.

"You idle bastard!" uttered one individual, "You live next door..."

"I do," I said, steepling my fingers and preparing what is know as the 'slam dunk' - "But by ordering over the internet, I get that hour of my life back. Sometimes..." I leaned forward conspiratorially, "...sometimes I even do it naked. Just because I can."

We all laughed at the concept of naked shopping. Aside from the guy who'd bought me the Bondage Bears - he just looked thoughtful.