Me on a bicycle! This lockdown is making people do desperate things
IT’S amazing the things you’ll do to entertain yourself during a lockdown. He now has me cycling a bike. Yes I repeat – cycling a bike. I didn’t want to do it, obviously, but he finally wore me down with the promise of a trip to Dealz to buy a load of sh**e, if I cycled in to town with him.
THAT is what my life has been reduced to – a trip to Dealz to buy a six pack of scampi fries and all the cheap chocolate I can fit in my basket! Talk about living life on the edge. Next week I might even risk a trip to Iceland for the economy bag of chicken goujons and Wotsits. The excitement is palpable!
The cycle did not start off well. The bike was too big for me and my feet could barely reach the pedals. Going in was fine because it was all downhill but I hadn’t thought about the cycle home, which is all uphill and requires thighs of steel to complete.
It didn’t help that I’d also picked up a six pack of Lucozade and a large bag of Bombay mix on my sojourn to Dealz which weighed my basket down even more. I was sweating buckets by the time I got home and seriously saddle sore although you would think, given the amount of weight my backside has gained in the last few weeks, I wouldn’t have felt a thing.
He’s now planning alternative routes for us to take over the coming weeks so we can see more of the countryside on our travels. Shoot me now. If there isn’t a Dealz, a Centra, Londis or Spar en route, I ain’t budging.
“I miss shopping,” I lament. He looks at me shocked. “Are you serious? The DPD guy knows you by first name. He probably knows more about you than I do, he comes to the house so often.” There may be some truth in this statement. I have been engaging in a little retail therapy to ease the pain, but online shopping is not the same as the real thing.
“Anyway what exactly have you been buying?” he inquires. “Don’t tell me you’ve been buying clothes. It’s not like we’re going to be going anywhere anytime soon.”
Oh that’s it – hit a girl when she’s down. In answer to his question, I decided to be honest for a change.
“I bought stuff to cover my roots – didn’t work. Stuff to get rid of unwanted hair – didn’t work. A yoke to massage my face and make it look youthful and supple – didn’t work. Stuff to do my nails, didn’t work and an electric clippers.”
”Oh to shave my head?” he asks.
“No. To shave mine if the hairdressers don’t reopen on July 20th.”
Never say never.
I DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT, OBVIOUSLY, BUT HE FINALLY WORE ME DOWN WITH THE PROMISE OF A TRIP TO DEALZ TO BUY A LOAD OF SH**E.