The government recently re-introduced the re-opening of non-essential shops. Yeah, because the one thing this country has been missing is a “non-essential” shop.
Oh, but apparently they have, as swarms of people crowded into Sports Direct because the one thing they decided en masse that they wanted, having spent the past 3 months in lockdown where they haven’t walked or ran anywhere, was a new pair of trainers.
Similarly, people flocked to Primark to buy non-essential outfits for all those nights out and social gatherings that they won’t be having anytime soon.
I needed to buy a couple of birthday cards and, whilst I could easily have argued they were non-essential, I’m not sure the intended recipients would have felt the same and argued strongly that they were
.Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that my local Card Factory was still closed. Maybe they had collapsed? Maybe it had folded?
Whatever, you’d think they could easily have let us know by putting a card in the window?
Given the many times that I have been unable to safely social distance in that shop – even when alone – I will assume they were still working out how to open safely.
Many people flocked to hardware stores but one of the advantages of being a single guy living on his own during the lockdown isn’t that I don’t have d.i.y and decorating to do, it’s that I haven’t got anyone telling me that it needs doing this minute.
Sure, I have paint, but providing I use it before it turns into a hideous oily, gloopy mess, through years of stagnation, I’m not unduly bothered about using it anytime soon.
My flat is filled of non-essential items. I have a drawer filled with kettle leads in case one day I go to a shop, buy a kettle and say: “I have a lead. Can I just have the kettle and maybe a discount?”
And I have 36 tea-light candles for when I decide to open my own church or have a romantic night in with myself.
And, with no pubs or restaurants opening until next weekend, I’ve booked myself in for such a night on Thursday. Not that it was essential.