2167: Boxing Day

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Today was Boxing Day, apparently a day when everyone and his dog decides to go shopping, because having a single day of the year when you can’t go shopping is apparently too much for some people to deal with.

While I certainly don’t begrudge people the business they have brought my place of work over the festive period, since they keep me in a job for the time being, I do find myself a little bewildered at the eagerness to get right back out into an absolutely rammed town centre and do something it’s possible to do almost every single other day of the year.

I guess it’s the promise of “sales” that has people enraptured with the idea of immediate post-Christmas shopping: the prospect of being able to pick up a bargain with any money and/or vouchers that came their way to celebrate the anniversary of the birth of our Lord, but looking around town today I can’t honestly say that I saw anything I’d particularly regard as a “bargain”. Sure, some stuff was maybe a little bit cheaper than it is usually, but we’re talking a reduction of like 20-25% at most in many places, which doesn’t amount to all that much.

Mostly the thing that bewilders me about immediate post-Christmas shopping is the fact that people are willingly giving up time where it’s absolutely fine — even encouraged — to slob around at home doing nothing of any consequence save for eating, drinking and playing with toys, and instead spending money they probably don’t really have on things they’re not sure they want, perhaps for people they don’t really like.

Oh well. As I say, I certainly don’t begrudge these people their choices, since the amount of money we took today — a lot of it cash, too, making for some impressive wads in the tills — is proof enough that online hasn’t quite killed the high street just yet, and it’s keeping me in employment for the moment, and hopefully for a bit longer after the holiday season is officially over. That last bit remains to be seen, so fingers crossed.

As for me, though, I don’t plan on doing any shopping anywhere other than Steam over the next few days, and I don’t have to get off the sofa to do that. I have two days off now, so I will most certainly be doing as little as possible over the course of the next 48 hours to ensure I’m rested, relaxed and ready for action as we creep towards the new year.

I hope you all had a thoroughly pleasant Christmas, and that you’re having the chance to enjoy at least a bit of a rest over the holiday period.

1728: Junk Shop

It’s always pleasant to find a new “weird shop” in which to spend some of your hard-earned money. We’ve all become so used to seeking out the chain stores to — in most cases, anyway — get the best deals that finding a legitimate local business that does something altogether unique is both a rarity and a pleasure.

The shop I “discovered” today is one I’ve walked past several times and always meant to have a look in, but never got around to it. If I’m honest, I can’t remember its name at all, but it’s in the Marlands shopping centre in Southampton (for those who don’t know Southampton, this is the smaller of the two shopping centres in the city centre, populated by a peculiar combination of small local stores and profitable chains like CEX, Disney Store and, err, Poundland) and is on the left in the “plaza” area, just after you wander past places like F. Hinds and Claire’s Accessories.

I believe it describes itself as an “Oriental goods” store, which essentially means, as you might expect, that it sells a variety of stuff from the Far East. Inside the store there’s a very odd mix of things ranging from cosplay to bags (I bought a Hatsune Miku bag today, which should be a more appropriate receptacle for all my Stuff than the very nice but slightly impractical laptop bag I’m currently improvising with) via collectible figures, hand-painted rice bowls, kimonos and some random tourist tat like fridge magnets.

It is, in short, the sort of shop I can see myself spending a fair amount of money in. Whether or not I actually will spend any more money in there remains to be seen, but it’s certainly a cool little place that I will probably now take any visitors who might enjoy that sort of thing to go and see.

It reminds me a little of a shop in the now-closed Bargate Shopping Centre here in Southampton, which was called something like Smells, Bells and Doo-Dahs. This, too, was a Far East-inspired store, though it didn’t, as I recall, sell much in the way of anime bits and pieces. Instead, it stocked, once again, a bizarre combination of items, ranging from various different incense scents to an impressively intimidating collection of actual (albeit blunt) swords of both Eastern and Western origin. I don’t think I ever bought anything there, but it was a landmark sort of place; I was comforted by its presence, and always enjoyed just having a browse, even if nothing ever convinced me that I really needed it.

The Bargate Centre in general was good for that, actually; I was sad to see it finally close after dying a very long and drawn-out death over the course of the last few years. Pop into Bargate in its prime (which was during my time at university, so between 1999 and 2002 or so) and you could check out an impressively stocked non-chain video games store, buy some unusual and stylish clothing, get a tattoo or piercing, purchase some bondage gear and dildos, start a sock collection actually worth bragging about and then cap off your visit with a trip to Sega World, an actual bona-fide coin-op arcade, boasting a selection of cool games both old and new. It was tragic to see these things disappear one by one, but either their relevance diminished over time, or they were simply destroyed by the cutthroat nature of modern high-street business.

I’m glad a few places like the shop I can’t remember the name of still exist, though; it makes me happy to think of people eking out a living from selling the strangest things, and while places like that stock interesting and fun things I might want to buy, I’m more than happy to support them.

1673: Customer Service Done Right

The Internet is full of people bitching and complaining about poor service — usually with a pointed passive-aggressive (or just outright aggressive) tweet — “Hey, @virginmedia, our service has been down for 6 hours, you bunch of fucking assholes”, that sort of thing — so I feel it’s important to mention and celebrate the places that do things right and provide a good experience for the customer.

Today, I bit the bullet and went to the “fat man’s clothes shop” here in Southampton. Dubbed High and Mighty (a polite way of saying “Tall or Fat”), I originally thought this place was a small, local establishment but have since discovered it’s a nationwide chain. Anyway, regardless of how big it is (no pun intended), I’d never actually been in there, but a cursory examination of their website the other day revealed that it might be a good place to go to get myself a new suit. I need a new suit, you see, because while the one I have technically fits, it’s designed in such a way — “slim fit”, I believe is the term, an altogether unfortunate use of the word “slim” when applied to jackets and trousers of this size — that it’s almost impossible to move your arms, legs and shoulders more than a few centimetres in any direction, and things like bending over to tie up shoelaces are particularly troublesome.

So I decided to go along and get a new suit. Despite being out of work for a bit, a pleasant windfall a while back allowed me to get a new TV (bought almost immediately before I lost my job, as Sod’s Law tends to go), a new car, today’s suit and a few miscellaneous sundries while still having some left over for a rainy day. As such, I figured it was worth spending the additional money on something that would actually fit and — hopefully, anyway — look something akin to “nice” atop my horrible, fat-ass frame. (I do not like my body, if that was not already clear.) Even if it transpires that I don’t need to wear a suit for my new job on a daily basis, I figure it certainly doesn’t hurt to look presentable on the first day at least, and there are also things like weddings and stuff coming up that I’ll need a suit for, so it’s worth having anyway.

So where does the customer service come in? Well, I wandered into the aforementioned shop and was immediately greeted by the sole inhabitant, who, it turns out, was the assistant manager, manning the shop on a Monday lunchtime. He politely asked me if he could help me with anything — without being pushy — and, after a moment of considering saying that I was just looking, I instead decided to say that I was looking for a suit, and could he help me out?

“Of course!” he said enthusiastically, coming out from behind the counter. He asked me what sort of style I was looking for — I didn’t really know, but I wanted it for work and possible other occasions, so he suggested something plain and neutral — and what my sizes were. I didn’t really know, so he took a look at me, estimated my chest size (accurately) and measured my waist before giving me a few jackets to try on. I found one I liked, but the sleeves were too long, so he pinned them back to give me an idea of what they’d look like with adjustments. Then he found me some trousers, which I took into the changing rooms to try on, and he provided me with a pair of shoes to try with them for a better idea of how they’d fit with smart shoes on rather than the trainers I was wearing. Eventually I emerged with a pair of trousers that were comfortable, that fit and that allowed for freedom of movement, and paired them with one of the jackets I’d tried earlier. Then I happily handed over £250 — more than I think I’ve ever paid for clothes in my life — and agreed to come back when the adjustments had been made, which should be later this week.

All through my time in the store, I felt comfortable and at ease, which is something I don’t feel at all when shopping in stores full of “normal” size clothes, which often don’t quite go big enough for me. (Even were I to shed my gut, I’m still quite broad-shouldered anyway, too.) I felt like my size was just that — a size — rather than something abnormal and disgusting. (I still feel that about myself in private, but it was nice to be in an environment where other people didn’t treat me that way.) I walked away feeling happy with my purchase, and keen to return to the shop the next time I needed some decent clothes in an appropriate size for me.

That’s exemplary customer service, and how to get a glowing recommendation from me. Nice one, High and Mighty; I’ll be back.

#oneaday Day 537: Apocalypse Shopping

Generally speaking, shops are designed to cater to a specific audience. Clothes shops have their own market, food shops appeal to different socioeconomic groups and you can supposedly tell a lot about a girl from where she buys her underwear.

There’s a few shops out there, though, that defy classification altogether, and I like to think of these as “apocalypse shops”. The kind of place that stocks boxes of slug pellets next to boxes of gummy sweets; dodgy knock-off cereal next to laundry baskets; dog food next to binbags. These places are fascinating, simply because you can find pretty much anything you can think of without too much difficulty.

One shop back in Southampton fell under this umbrella. It was the kind of place where you could get everything you’d need to survive in the post-apocalyptic wasteland. There was dried, tinned food; gardening implements and seeds; blankets and camping equipment; all manner of other things. Of course, the value of the shop depends entirely upon its ability to withstand the apocalypse process.

If anything, apocalypse shops are the closest we get to the RPG concept of the “item shop”, where you can buy everything from potions to weaponry. Guns and banjos. Broccoli and toilet paper. Condoms and boiled sweets.

I highly recommend going out to find your local apocalypse shop as soon as you possibly can. Because after all, you never know when you might need its services.

#oneaday Day 155: Shop Shop

Shopping’s a bit rubbish in the 21st century, isn’t it? You have to drive all the way somewhere, pay a billion pounds to park and then walk around a bunch of shops that don’t necessarily have the thing you’re looking for in the first place and you just know that you should have phoned ahead to see if they had that thing and you didn’t and blah.

In the age of the Internet, of course, there’s really very little need to go out to the shops. Internet stores are much cheaper, don’t require you to interact with sullen shop assistants (who are probably just as non-enthused about interacting with you as you with them) and have a selection of everything in the world. (You can also get pornography shipped to you in discreet, plain packaging as opposed to a plastic bag proudly emblazoned with “Bounty Bob’s Big House o’ Porn” on the side of it.)

Very little need, of course, but for one thing: you still can’t beat the convenience of actually walking into a shop, handing over some cash (or your plastic of choice) and walking out of there with an item. The quickest somewhere like Amazon can get stuff to you is the next day, which is pretty good going, but still not quite as good as thinking “I want that thing” and being able to go and get that thing immediately. (Also, if Amazon decide to ship your shit through Home Delivery Network, you can forget about seeing it for at least a week. Free Super Saver Delivery is free for a reason.)

Going to the actual shops can be a social event, though. Some people enjoy the experience of wandering around small, cramped spaces that have never heard of air conditioning, rummaging through thirty-seven almost-identical products until they irritably state that it’s just not right and go off to have a half-caff frappucino mocha with extra foam.

And then there’s the shops which are specifically designed to be hands-on. You can order an iPad from the Apple website, sure, but you can go in and fiddle with one before handing over your money if you walk into an Apple Store. That’s kind of cool, and in an era where more and more sales are moving online, it’s sometimes difficult to imagine why more “brick and mortar” (ugh, hate that expression) stores aren’t moving to a more interactive system. GAME, for example, would be awesome if you could pick up a game you were curious about, try it out for a few minutes and make your mind up. Better than buying something whose pack art looked great/had massive tits on it and discovering that it’s actually a load of old bollocks when you get home. Of course, this plan is inherently flawed by the fact that if you let people sit and play games in your store, they will sit and play games in your store. All day. Just ask anyone who works in an Apple Store.

#oneaday, Day 203: Things To Do Instead Of Tidying Your House

Your house is a mess! It’s a disgrace. And yet somehow you don’t feel that now is the correct time to do anything about it. There are far more important things to be doing or thinking about. Such as the following:

Going for a walk

You haven’t been outside all day! And it’s, what, lunchtime? You need some Fresh Air. Your mum and dad always told you that Fresh Air was good for you when you were little, so therefore it must still be good for you right now. So why not go outside and get some of that Fresh Air? It’s super-fresh! Mmm! Feel the freshness invigorating your lungs and spirit! Don’t you feel just a little bit more alive, especially now the stale odour of last night’s curry isn’t infiltrating your nostrils? Why not stay out for an hour or two? Go to the park! Sit and stare into space for a while. Fresh Air is good! The more of it you get, the better!

Going shopping

This is an even more fantastic idea! Not only will you get Fresh Air on the journey to the shops, but you’ll also get Stuff once you arrive at the shops! That means once you arrive back home, you’ll have Stuff to find homes for! If you want to go shopping on the pretence of doing something useful for the somewhat medieval state of your hovel, then you could always buy one or more cleaning products while you’re out! Fresh Air and Stuff! Awesome.

Phoning all your friends

You don’t generally like talking on the phone. In fact, you talk on the phone so little that your BT phone bill is perpetually in credit, meaning that they constantly owe you money. So why not use some of that credit and phone those people that you haven’t spoken to or seen for a while? I bet they have lots of awesome news to tell you! And you can joke about how untidy your house is. Plus, you never know, they might actually want to come over. And that will give you an actual reason to tidy your house. Because there’s no point tidying up without a reason now, is there?

Seeing all your friends

Perhaps one of the friends you phoned is having a bad time and wants to rant over a coffee. Perhaps someone who is always busy is having a rare day off and wants to see you. Perhaps you feel like getting some Fresh Air, and conveniently there’s a friend you haven’t seen for ages. So why not get some of that awesome Fresh Air and see your awesome friend? Yeah.

Turning on the television and staring at it

It doesn’t matter what’s on, because you won’t really be watching it. It could be Jeremy Kyle. It could be Ben 10. It could be Last of the Summer Wine. If the last channel you left your TV on was Dave, it’s probably Top Gear. Why not sit yourself down on your couch and enjoy some mindless entertainment? It doesn’t matter if you don’t normally watch the programme in question. It’s on. And you owe it to yourself and to Culture to find out what all the fuss is about.

Making an overelaborate sandwich

Your kitchen is messy, but you’re hungry. What to do? What to do? Make a sandwich! Rummage through your fridge and cupboards for the most disparate luncheon products you can find, slap them all together between two pieces of bread that you don’t think is mouldy, add at least one condiment or sauce, place it on a plate (or, if all your plates are dirty, in a bowl; if all your bowls are dirty, in a frying pan; if all your pans are dirty, in a bit of kitchen roll; if you have no kitchen roll, just pick the damn thing up) and then retire to your couch (where you may optionally turn on the TV and stare at it) and enjoy your creation before realising that your bizarre combination of cooked meats, chilli sauce, some unidentifiable fruits and vegetables you found in the baskets at the bottom of your fridge and mayonnaise doesn’t really go. But you’ve made it now; so you’re damn well going to eat the whole thing if only to be able to tell people about your magnificent creation.

By now it must be bedtime. So go to bed satisfied in the knowledge that you couldn’t have possibly had a nicer day, and of course all the tidying up can wait until tomorrow. When you’ll go through this whole process again.