On getting up early and getting dressed in the dark. And socks.
I'm tired most of the time, partly because I have to get up at ten to six every working day, and partly because I spend up to three and a half hours a day driving to work and back. This is all my own fault, so I'm not complaining, not really. I'm just tired.
This morning I thought there was a cat sitting in the conservatory, just outside the door, as if waiting to get into the living room. It was a bag of potatoes.
Two days ago, I got dressed in the dark as usual, and it's only because I happened to glance into a mirror as I was brushing my teeth that I realised my shirt was on inside out. I rarely look in mirrors, so there's a fair chance I've worn inside-out shirts to work a lot of times recently. As to the colour of the socks I'm wearing, your guess is as good as mine.
Talking of socks, yet another poor set of trading figures for Marks and Spencer earlier in the week. Extrapolating wildly, and generalising like mad from my own experience, I can confirm that their problem is in the sock department.
Here's what used to happen.
Mrs Shopper would say to her other half, "I want to look in M&S ." Other half would say, "Okay - I'll wander round the men's dept." While there, he'd look at the socks. They used to do a variety of styles and colours. You could buy red ones, yellow ones, green ones, blue ones, as well as black grey brown beige and white sports socks. Other half would buy a few pars, then he'd notice the -t-shirts, buy a couple of those (in colours to match said socks, sometimes!), and he might look at some other stuff. Find a jacket he liked, a jumper, whatever.
Meanwhile, Mrs Shopper had all the time she wanted to seriously browse the clothes, try a few things on, buy a few bits.
Results: M & S profits.
Here's what happens now.
Mrs Shopper says to her other half, "Mind if I look in M & S?" Other half says, "Okay - I'll be in the men's dept." He goes up there, and is presented with a wide variety of socks in grey, black, brown, dark grey, beige, dark beige, black, black, brown, and black. And white sports socks. All with fucking Lycra™ impregnated into them so they squeeze your feet all day and make them hot and uncomfortable. And they all cost a frecking fortune, to boot.
So he gets fed up and wanders back to the Ladies dept, pesters Mrs Shopper because he's bored, and they walk out of the shop without buying anything.
See? It's all about socks. I've told them, but they don't listen. And aren't they sorry now? How can I put this? BRING BACK RED SOCKS!.
It's not a lot to ask.
You might wonder, where does Other Half get his socks? Well, he still buys them in M & S, probably, but only once or twice a year, and only in desperation. And anyway, you can buy shitty dull coloured Lycra™ impregnated socks anywhere, can't you?
Business
MarksandSpencer
This morning I thought there was a cat sitting in the conservatory, just outside the door, as if waiting to get into the living room. It was a bag of potatoes.
Two days ago, I got dressed in the dark as usual, and it's only because I happened to glance into a mirror as I was brushing my teeth that I realised my shirt was on inside out. I rarely look in mirrors, so there's a fair chance I've worn inside-out shirts to work a lot of times recently. As to the colour of the socks I'm wearing, your guess is as good as mine.
Talking of socks, yet another poor set of trading figures for Marks and Spencer earlier in the week. Extrapolating wildly, and generalising like mad from my own experience, I can confirm that their problem is in the sock department.
Here's what used to happen.
Mrs Shopper would say to her other half, "I want to look in M&S ." Other half would say, "Okay - I'll wander round the men's dept." While there, he'd look at the socks. They used to do a variety of styles and colours. You could buy red ones, yellow ones, green ones, blue ones, as well as black grey brown beige and white sports socks. Other half would buy a few pars, then he'd notice the -t-shirts, buy a couple of those (in colours to match said socks, sometimes!), and he might look at some other stuff. Find a jacket he liked, a jumper, whatever.
Meanwhile, Mrs Shopper had all the time she wanted to seriously browse the clothes, try a few things on, buy a few bits.
Results: M & S profits.
Here's what happens now.
Mrs Shopper says to her other half, "Mind if I look in M & S?" Other half says, "Okay - I'll be in the men's dept." He goes up there, and is presented with a wide variety of socks in grey, black, brown, dark grey, beige, dark beige, black, black, brown, and black. And white sports socks. All with fucking Lycra™ impregnated into them so they squeeze your feet all day and make them hot and uncomfortable. And they all cost a frecking fortune, to boot.
So he gets fed up and wanders back to the Ladies dept, pesters Mrs Shopper because he's bored, and they walk out of the shop without buying anything.
See? It's all about socks. I've told them, but they don't listen. And aren't they sorry now? How can I put this? BRING BACK RED SOCKS!.
It's not a lot to ask.
You might wonder, where does Other Half get his socks? Well, he still buys them in M & S, probably, but only once or twice a year, and only in desperation. And anyway, you can buy shitty dull coloured Lycra™ impregnated socks anywhere, can't you?
Business
MarksandSpencer
posted by Anonymous at
Thursday, April 14, 2005
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