My first foray into Poundland; yep, I think I got away with blagging it…

23030462_10154904076040846_1941503849_oI blag almost everything, almost every day in every situation. I went to Poundland today and blagged it in there, I’ve never been in before, but didn’t want to look a complete arse, so I sauntered up and down the aisles, nodding knowingly as I passed by all the daily essentials (like a lock for a motorbike (which I don’t own) and a Santa hat for my dog (which I do own) and a Toblerone for my husband (who I own, kind of, well, not really) Anyway, imagine my delight when, from now where I stumbled upon the 1970’s! Yes, not only was there tinsel and those shiny hanging lantern things that come flat in a pack then spring open but never stay open or ever shut flat properly again, but there were Matchmakers and cheese savoury nibbles and Caramac and Star Bars and Brillo pads and Smiths Salt n’ Shake crisps! Who knew that you could travel back in time in Poundland! and there was no Tardis involved at any point!  Anyway, I filled by basket with retro treats (but bypassed the cod-liver oil, brillo pads and dandelion and burdoc)  and made my way to the till, where I hoped the witches hat I’d snook in during my trip down the ‘seasonal fancy dress aisle (yes, a whole aisle!) would move seamlessly from my basket to my rucksack (aka my hand bag) but alas, it was not meant to be. In my hurry to surreptitiously place aforementioned hat into my basket, I’d picked up one with no bloody bar code on it! Great, cue tannoy announcement calling “Neil to the checkout, Neil to the checkout, there’s a woman here who’s clearly completely out of her depth and has never shopped here before. judging by the contents of her basket she’s in her mid to late 40’s, possibly knocking on the door of the BIG 50, trying to surreptitiously buy a witches hat, when she should be old enough to know better than to partake in fancy dress anymore!”…is not what he actually said, but it’s what EVERYONE WAS THINKING!

I hurriedly packed the 1970’s into my rucksack, donned my witches hat (no room in my rucksack) and headed off (with a very embarrassed teenage son in tow) to McDonald’s Drive through…where once again I failed miserably at blagging it “Please may I have a chicken 9 McNugget chicken meal regular size chicken please?” Cue teenage son pissing himself laughing at my overuse of the word ‘chicken’…

Let’s see what the rest of the day brings, as I do need to venture out again….

 

 

 

 

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