~ And on that subject - do our beloved ones actually get some sadistic high from leaving us standing alone in the middle of the lingerie department. You can only study the packet of butter and sultana biscuits in you trolley for so long. And...why is it when you do pick up courage to look up you always meet the eye of some middle aged cougar holding up a plunge bra in front of her ample bosom...or is that just me.
It gets worse because when you have daughters there are the inevitable ordeals in New Look or Select stores. Now there has been ample discussion on other forums about how photographers feel criminally uncomfortable when wielding their 300mm telephoto anywhere within 600 yards of a school playground....wimps. You want to try being the only middle aged male loitering in the middle of a New Look store (I suppose the trench coat does not help but thats another story). Now I ask you, where do you look. Well I used to find a pillar to hide behind and study the address book on my phone. Big mistake! Do not hide behind pillars with a phone that has a camera
. So the shoe department. That seems safe so I toddle over with my Co-op carrier bags and sit on one of the fitting benches. Safe my ****. It is almost inevitable that a a 17 year old in a micro skirt will plonk herself down opposite and start to pull on some knee high fashion boots - time to inspect the sprinkler system in the ceiling I think. Thankfully daughter has finished her hour long stint in the changing rooms and rushes to the rescue with an arm full of clothing. A bit of a tangent here but why oh why do women insist on changing into their latest sartorial find and then calling you over to the change area to view them in all there price label bedecked glory. "Well, what do you think?" - "mmm the lady in the next cubicle has a great cleavage in that underwired bra she is trying on" or "wow that mini skirt looks tempting on the girl in cubicle 3"....what do they expect you to say. You are not going to tell them they look like Hilda Baker front of a gang of half clad women are you. So its the inevitable "Very nice" and a scuttle back to the relative safety of the thermal underwear stand.
Anyway you have never been so glad to see your daughter so its straight to the checkout with your credit card. Now this should be the easy bit but for some reason you have turned into Lesley Phillips and the only thing that comes out when you address the checkout girl is "well hellooo"