and cutting them off to spite yer face?
I decided to get new jeans. My current ones are ok(ish). No holes but the faded look is getting more fadierish fast and I feel sloppy on dance nights. Decided I wanted to at least look like I put some effort in. I don’t want to take a complete change of clothes, that’s too much work. After 90 minutes of hanging lights I’m not repulsive but some body spray and a clean shirt works wonders.
BUT!!!! The jeans look old. and I feel like I have given up. Well I suppose I have, but I don’t like looking like I have.
Took a drive to the local super shopping centre, Highpoint. I have mentioned this place before. Oh Beatrice, you let me down, you cheeky temptress you.
I forgot it was school holidays. You know that time when mums and grand parents bring car loads of little kids and let them run riot, unsupervised, in this giant playground that was once a shopping centre.
Task 1, complete. I withdraw enough cash to pay for assorted Tango classes until end of October.
Task 2, abandoned. Didn’t buy the jeans. I forgot the store only uses self checkout now. So not only do I have to find my purchases unassisted, I have to pay and pack myself. While the humanitarian management can dispose of all those pesky unneeded staff. To them I say “Fuck off”. and did a u turn in the door way. HA!!! I showed them!
Task 3. Get some food. That solves everything. The central playground area, alias food court, was pure hell. No tables. I sat on a bench to eat my Salmon Sushi pack. Then got the hell out of Dodge!
Back in the cave now. Online, I bought the required jeans, Harbour Wash (dark) and Bondi Wash (faded). They will now be picked and packed by paid staff and I will get an SMS to tell me when they can be picked up. I am happy with that. Hopefully tomorrow (Friday) so I can give them that “rinse the extra dye out” wash before Saturday night.
See(?) my needs are easily satisfied.
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