Trying to find a friend in Oxford Street, or What the Internet is Not For

In spite of their efforts in that direction, I think Supermarkets are on the wrong track when they try to encourage us to buy groceries on-line. Asda and Tesco have woken up to the "non-food" items they can sell, but Saino's, like an old lady who thinks EastEnders is a documentary, are mostly about food.

I may be an old cynic, but if I was a supermarket manager I'd tell all the virtual shoppers to choose the mankiest fruit and veg, the stringiest cuts of meat, and the about-to-expire milk and bread for internet shoppers. After all, what do they care? They can't even be bothered to turn up.

Apart from groceries, another thing you should never, ever buy on the internet is shoes.

Children, don't do what I have done. I tried to run and I couldn't walk.

I bought some Clarks thingies on-line just before my holiday because I couldn't be airsed to go into town to try them on personally. They're a kind of mule thing, but with a low back on rather than no back. Which was dumb because one of my feet is a completely different shape to the other and wouldn't fit in the shoe properly, meaning I kept treading down the back and they're completely shagged, inside a week.

I also bought some Doc Martens online a couple of years ago, thinking that I'd be okay with a pair of Docs, any pair of Docs. But they were RUBBISH, and hurt my feet for SIX MONTHS before I could wear them without agony.

I've always loved Desert Boots, but always forget how bad they can be for your feet when new, when used to walk around too much. Five years ago I wore a new pair on a day trip to Strasbourg and gave myself agonising blisters on both my ankles. This year, I took two new pairs of shoes on holiday: the crappy mules and a new pair of DBs - which I wore on the first day to do a 10 kilometre walk with no socks.

How fucking stupid am I?

This stupid. I've still got the blister remnants, the sore bits where the blisters burst. I've even purchyased some padded plaster thingies to wear. But this morning, knowing I was going to be dropping my car off for a service and walking up the hill to work, I still wore, you guessed it, desert boots (albeit with socks) - with no padded plasters. And my fucking feet are fucking killing me.