Christmas presents are rubbish if you haven't wrapped them up, right? I think so, anyway. I don't ask for much, just that my presents have been wrapped nicely - preferably with bows and ribbon and a whisper of glitter (but not so much that it gets all over your fingers) in complementary colours and a nicely-written gift card. Naturally, because I demand such high standards from others, it's only fair that I offer exceptional gift-wrapping myself (it probably helps that I actually enjoy the whole 'wrapping presents' ritual every year, which takes me a good six hours and a couple of medicinal glasses of flavoured Bailey's - this year it's Biscotti flavour - to get it all finished. But when it's done it's really, satisfyingly done...and Christmas isn't Christmas without beautifully wrapped presents, whether they're for me or not).
All this is the reason I found myself battling Southend High Street in the morning, to ensure I got enough tags, ribbons and bows to accompany my annual wrap-fest. This is an important section of Christmas shopping I can't do online, just in case the paper's too flimsy and the ribbon too stringy or the tags too glittery. I have to see it all properly before I can buy it (and now I'm aware I don't sound too sane, so I will move on with the story...)
The very first sight I encountered as I rounded the corner into the High Street was a man in a black bobble hat and orange shorts running as fast as he could, clutching a cluster of silver and shiny things, shooting past me in a frenzied flash. He was being pursued by a man in a high-viz jacket but it was obvious he wasn't going to catch him...he was a bit older and fatter, plus he didn't really look like his heart was in the chase. I stopped and watched them for a moment; so did a little boy who asked his Mum "why is that man chasing the other man?" His Mum thought for a moment, then said "they're playing a Christmas game" which I thought was a great answer, and probably not far from the truth!
Next stop: Caffe Nero for a quick caffeine fix. Well, I needed sustenance after such a harrowing scene. I walked in; there was a long queue. There's always a long queue in coffee shops at Christmas, it's The Law. The reason, of course, is because every year all the coffee chains release a range of festive drinks it always takes an age to actually make. The poor flustered man at the counter was working on his own that morning; my request for a plain black coffee instead of a Toffee Nut Latte or an Amaretto Hot Choc or a Mistletoe Mocha (I made that last one up, but it sounds nice doesn't it?) almost earned me a big sloppy kiss!
(Those incidents always remind me of the time I went to Debenhams' coffee shop with my sister and there was a huge poster up behind the counter advertising a new drink called a 'Millionaire's Mocha'. My sister looked at the poster and said to the lady at the till "I think I'll try one of those Millionaire's Mochas, please". The lady, who looked all of about ninety, gave her a careworn, world-weary look and said "What's that, love?" My sister pointed to the poster and she sighed, then shouted across to the kitchen "What's in that fluffy new drink we're selling now?" Nobody really seemed to know, but a few squirts of canned cream, freeze-dried chocolate and toffee pieces later and my sister had something resembling the drink on the poster...if Picasso had painted it. She tasted the drink, said it was less "millionaire's mocha" than "penny pincher's dishwater" and we laughed like drains about it for ten minutes).
Coffee over with, it was off to the gift-wrap shop where I purchased everything I needed; the man ringing everything up at the till said "Going to wrap some Christmas presents, are you?" and I replied with the only logical answer I could think of, which was "Yes".
It was an eventful morning, on the whole.
No comments:
Post a Comment