Off to Romford

FRIDAY 4th JANUARY

 Pat is an artist who has produced over 150 paintings the majority of which she has sold, some she has given as presents, some are hanging on the walls of our three bedroom mansion and a few are lounging in the attic. She has been less prolific since her retirement as her audience has diminished and she is no longer involved with as many people as she once was. She has however had the urge recently to “get back in the saddle” so to speak so we decided to travel to the Wild West of Romford in order to purchase a picture frame and a few sheets of artist paper. We would have lunch while we were there and also purchase a pair of indoor slippers that she needed. The plan was to be home by mid afternoon.

What was I thinking? Is shopping with a woman ever that easy? No, of course not and I should have known better.

We left home a little later than planned and walked round to the bus stop where we caught the bus into Barking town centre then transferred to the bus that goes directly to Romford town centre. Except it didn’t. Not too far up the road a diversion was in force for all traffic including buses and the route took us back to within 200 yards of our home so we had taken nearly thirty minutes to travel a complete circle. We consoled ourselves with the thought that at least on our return journey we would arrive close to home without changing buses and the overall journey would be shorter. We finally arrived at our destination even later than intended so we decided to have lunch first then do our shopping.

We don’t travel to Romford for our shopping expeditions very often but when we do we always use the same cafe. It’s big with plenty of comfortable seating, the food is good, it’s clean, the waiters and waitresses are efficient and pleasant and service is quick. My problem is that since my Cancer operations I cannot eat what most people would describe as a normal sized meal but I’m too embarrassed to ask for a childs meal which would be much better for me and less wasteful. It’s the quizzical look from the waiter/waitresses that compels me to explain about my condition which I don’t really want to impart to a complete stranger. Because I am quite short I could pass as a child but the wizzened features and mostly bald head tend to give the game away. Is it my imagination or are meals served in cafes/ restaurants getting bigger? Is this another import from the USA we could do without? Having completed as much as we could eat we were full, rested and ready to shop.

Our first stop was the large hobby shop which, when empty, could house a small aeroplane. Pat found a selection of picture frames and duly, no rush, made her selection along with several sheets of artist paper which we took to the Pay Counter. The very nice young lady took our payment and offered me a large bag (no charge) in which to put the picture frame which I happily accepted but then found that the bag had no handles nor did it have any pre-made holes as an alternative. What use is a bag that has no means by which to carry your purchases? I have only myself to blame because I should have come prepared with a bag from home so I scrunched up the top of the bag and gripped it tightly as we made our way, with difficulty, into the main shopping area.

As we passed a big bookshop Pat suggested that we go in and have a look round and when we exited a while later we had a 1000 piece jigsaw to carry as well. 

Still on the way to her favoured shop where Pat was sure that she would buy the slippers she preferred at a reasonable price we passed a Card shop. Another stop to buy Christmas cards to be used for the coming Yuletide only 12 months away.

Time was passing quickly and finally we reached our final destination and Pat made a beeline to the slipper section. Knowing that this was going to be a long wait I did what I always do, go straight to the lingerie section. Even at my age I prefer to see the lingerie on the living female figure but beggars can’t be choosers. Pat was still engrossed with the slipper selection taking the same time and care that she would if she were buying a Ferrari so out of sheer boredom I browsed the ladies bedtime attire and noticed a very pretty pair of pyjamas which I thought were quite reasonably priced. At this point I have to tell you about Pat’s bedtime preferences. I’m not going to keep secrets from my loyal blog followers but please keep it to yourselves. This stays between me and you, okay.

Pat alternates between pyjamas and nightdresses, the nightdresses have no buttons and reach from her neck to about a quarter of an inch from the floor but her favourite is one that is made of Wincyette chainmail with two added accessories one being chainmail bootees with a spur on each heel and a nightcap which covers not only her head but also her ears. The nightcap is adorned with a spike and I believe that she may be the only person who clanks as she gets into bed. The major problem is that instead of washing it, it has to be treated with metal polish.

I will now return to the situation in the shop. On another rail close by was a bed jacket which was also very nice and reasonably priced and then I made the BIG mistake. I wandered over to Pat while she was still prevaricating and showed her these two items. 

“What do think of these?” I asked.

“The pyjamas are very pretty” she replied, “very reasonably priced and that is my size, and the bed jacket is just what I need when I sit up in bed reading. Thank you”

Thank you!! I didn’t say I was going to buy them I was just killing time. What could I say? I’m not a callous man and I wouldn’t disappoint her for one minute so I trudged my way to the Pay Counter dragging a bag with no handles, a pair of pyjamas which were dragging on the floor and doing their best to trip me up and a hanger in my mouth holding a bed jacket. 

Having completed my reluctant purchase and thinking of my dwindling bank account Pat turned up with four pair of slippers and another pair of pyjamas.

“Why are you buying four pair of slippers” I enquired “are you identifying as an Octupus”

“They are cheap, exactly what I want and it will save me the bus fare of having to return at some point in the future” she retorted indignantly

“You have a bus pass I pointed out, you don’t pay to travel on a bus”

“You are splitting hairs” she told me. “Typical man”

By this time even Pat was tired of spending money and we made our way with some difficulty to the bus stop to return home. On our home journey we realised that the diversion was no longer applicable and instead of the shorter journey we were expecting we had to go all the way into Barking and get a second bus finally arriving home in the twilight zone between late afternoon and early evening completely knackered.

Who said “ Best laid plans of mice and men”?