anecdote of the day - the one with the wok

ok, so I need a frying pan, right... [so far this sounds like one of sparticus's stories...]

{start.anecdote}

anyway, I go into tesco, and see tesco value frying pans and tesco value woks. now the tesco value woks are cheaper, and the labels are all mixed up already, but despite my confusion [maybe the pans aisle was trying to tell me something] I take a tesco value frying pan with a tesco value wok label on it down from the shelf.

anyway, then - as I always do - I check out the hat aisle.

error. [uh-oh, this really is...]

actually, today - there are no hats [that I haven't already tried on and don't fit, don't own, or don't suit]. there is, however, a lovely sleeveless pullover and some trousers, which I need. I decide to try them on, and so am now standing in the queue with a pair of trousers, a sleeveless pullover, and a tesco value frying pan.

I make pleasant conversation with the lady to my left, who is waiting for her ac/dc-t-shirt-wearing-son to finish trying on his clothes. she expresses her fear that I might club her. I hadn't thought of that.

in our talking, she refers to the tesco value frying pan as a wok [having seen the label. she has obviously seriously considered her story for the police, post-clubbing)]. I am swift to correct her, saying "I'm making pancakes. why would I want a wok? they'd just be really fat". I laugh to myself at the thought of a really deep pancake.

{start.aside}

as a matter of fact, I do not intend to make pancakes with it, I intend to make injera. I do not want to waste this lady's time explaining this, though.

{end.aside}

the changing-room-attendant-lady [henceforth referered to as "lady.II"] now asks: "how many items have you got there?" to which I naturally answer, "two. unless you include the frying pan, but I'm planning on stealing that."

in the changing room, whilst unnerved by the unnatural amount of space inside [I think she may have thought I was disabled or, at the very least, handicapped], I begin cracking up as my next witty comment to lady.II enters my mind. I also realise that the trousers are a little on the small side. this is a shame, because they were reduced. in price.

so I step out of the tardis cubicle with my big number two tag, the trousers, the sleeveless pullover and the tesco value frying pan. lady.II [predictably] asks "how did you get on in there?" despite feeling a little interrogated, I explain that "the sleeveless pullover fits, but [wait for it...] the trousers and frying pan do not."

I then say [now here's the 'best' bit...] "maybe I'll try a wok", whilst indicating with my free hand hand where I might place it so as to appear an even more rotund robber.

{end.anecdote}

"what now?" you ask. now, I leave the trousers [not the ones I was wearing when I went in. I'm still wearing them, sicko!], pay for the sleeveless pullover and tesco value frying pan, and return to the dog who has been patiently waiting with my sister in the car. I drive home to find that the tesco value frying pan is rubbish.

in the process of paying, incidentally, I am asked several confusing questions. the first being "do you want to keep the hanger?" now normally, I would have answered this with confidence, but I merely mumbled a 'no thanks', eager to avoid any awkward "are-you-going-to-club-me?" glances.

I'm also asked if I am "collecting computers for schools vouchers". my mind answers no to this before I hear the word vouchers, but even then - I'm not so sure that I've exactly been 'collecting' them, either. in my mind, that defeats the point [I am, as yet, not an educational institution].

finally, I'm asked if I have a clubcard. I toy with the idea of giving my co-op share number, but realise that isn't funny. I don't even want to be in their stupid club anyway. stupidheads.

{start.afterthoughts}

• this is far too long to be considered an anecdote.

• maybe I should have bought the wok.

{end.afterthoughts}

{sleep}