Burning up the cash on a life in lockdown
THE offer was almost too good to resist, with summer stretching ahead and a back garden doubling as a reception room for unexpected visitors. The email advert was from a well-known company and said I could have a parasol and base, garden bench and two-seater bistro set for the bargain price of £395, saving a massive £119.
Or, I thought, as my finger twitched on the website, I could ignore the offer and save £395.
Phew. But that was close. I’d have been looking at barbecues next.
Being isolated has meant I’ve been buying bizarre stuff online. I even bought a sandwich toaster. Honest. This must be one of the most unused kitchen items in any household. We had one ages ago and gave it away, as it had dropped from being marginally useful to cluttering up a cupboard.
This one has a fancy name – a panini maker and health grill – and has been used twice in six weeks. The first time we used it, I burnt my mouth. I’d forgotten they heat sliced tomato to volcanic temperatures and turn cheese into lava. It is hanging onto its place on the kitchen worktop by its fingertips.
Among other things I didn’t need were thermal slipper socks, Velcro straps and rubber stress reflexology massage balls with lethal rubber spiky bits.
Sit on one of those that has been left carelessly on the settee and you’ll know about it.
And why did I buy a new pair of trackie bottoms and sky blue trainers two months ago, so that I could look casual/smart when I went into hospital for a spinal operation?
At that time, I couldn’t walk never mind go training, entered the hospital in a wheelchair and stayed one night, wearing mostly a hospital gown. Who was I trying to impress? The nurses were lovely but hardly classed me as a cool dude, and the surgeon obviously couldn’t care less about appearances, because he wore jeans and had a hole in his sweater, which I found strangely reassuring.
Perhaps it’s the disposable society in which we live, perhaps I’ve been suffering from lockdown retail withdrawal, perhaps I’ve spent too much time checking out Amazon and ebay because I’m bored.
I’ve been buying bizarre stuff... even a sandwich toaster. The first time we used it I burned
my mouth.
For instance, when the battery in Maria’s watch died last week, I gave her my watch and bought myself a new one online. Just like that.
“Why did you do that?” she said. “You have half a dozen watches in a toiletry bag in the bedroom.”
I’d forgotten they were there. Other bargain priced watches from the internet, and two I bought on ebay from China at two quid each which, even at that price, looked as though I had paid over the odds. And every one of them needed a new battery.
It hasn’t stopped my online curiosity and I’ve now been looking at laptops. Yes, I know I’ve got a perfectly serviceable computer and a tablet and a smartphone, but this laptop is pretty cool and I did save £395 on that garden furniture. All it takes is a click.
Perhaps not.