It was one the few remaining pleasures of her life. The accelerating years had swallowed up the sporting hobbies of her youth. It was also now over a decade since the three children had flown the nest. Letting them go was very traumatic as the job of being a hands on mother had been so fulfilling. Now there was only her husband, the recently retired Albert, to keep her company at home. She had outlined his new role in life in meticulous detail making it very clear who it was that now wore the trousers.
In order to avoid having a vacuum in her life, each week Edith would embark upon some ‘satisfaction therapy’. In other words -‘shopping’. Such outings required the unquestioning cooperation of Albert who dutifully acted as her Sherpa.
Asda was always the first port of call of the day. It would have been more tolerable for Albert if Edith just focused on the things that were on her shopping list. He knew, however, that supermarket shopping meant an additional hour or two of viewing all the products the store offered for sale. Edith simply enjoyed browsing, and for her it was of no consequence that she had no intension of actually buying anything else. No wonder Albert constantly looked like a zombie. His trolley would always have a mind of its own during the many miles he clocked up in the store. Steering the overflowing beast was almost impossible as he tried to anticipate Edith’s random meanderings.
Sadly for Albert, the supermarket trial was only the beginning of Edith’s exciting activity day. Following her salivating in every Asda aisle, her next venture was to go into as many High Street shops as she could during the next six hours. Poor Albert! He had learnt what to expect and sure enough he spent most of the rest of the day in a similar position to many other obedient males. Most adopted leaning postures outside retail therapy units as they tried to take up comfortable positions whilst the ladies were absorbed in their own worlds within. As a sign of maturity, Albert also managed to feign an interest in the roof structures on the other side of the street hoping that this poise would avoid him looking like a complete plonker.
The worst thing for Albert, but the best for Edith, was the row of charity shops where she would completely loose all track of time. Many had been the occasions that Albert had thought he should have taken a sleeping bag with him. He kept his counsel as long since he had discerned that Edith would not entertain such whimsical notions.
Ploughing this regular furrow of retail therapy was the fillip that enhanced Edith’s quality of life. She was content.
But then, without warning, everything changed. Some virus thing was apparently spreading like wild fire across the nation. A pandemic they called it and the government was about to introduce something called ‘lockdown’ in order to try and slow down the spread of this life threatening infection. Little did Edith understand that her carefully orchestrated controlled life was about to be blasted into smithereens. She was about to discover that the greatest impact was going to be on her adrenaline fix from her weekly shopping exploits.
They said that High Street shops were to close with immediate effect but there was a glimmer of hope – supermarkets would remain open. At least that would allow Edith, and the trolley pusher Albert, to continue with a regular two or three hour weekly shopping extravaganza. To compensate for the anticipated curtailment of other shopping, Edith planned on indulging in cappuccinos and scones in the stores café prior to going home.
Just how wrong can you be!
She soon discovered that only one person from each household could go shopping. How was she going to manage? Never before had she to control a full trolley whilst both browsing and selecting the groceries. The lockdown rules however were simply nectar to Albert’s ears. Oh dear,- he would have to stay at home on his own with only a few beers for company!
It was now poor Edith. Her main pleasure source in life was turning into a nightmare. If only she had listened more intently to the guidelines on the news then she would have been more prepared for the snail pace queuing outside the store and the enforcement of the two meter rule. In addition, once inside Asda there was a requirement to follow what looked liked convict arrows marked on the floor. Her normal freedom of the store had evaporated and it was more like being in a prison exercise yard. Everyone seemed to have lost their ability to either smile or speak. Instead she was greeted by a host of caustic stares every time her trolley suddenly chose by itself to go against the traffic flow. And browsing! What browsing? Multitudes of barren shelves offered no choice or price comparisons. It was a case of like it or lump it. There were not even any tea bags or toilet rolls. In the past she had occasionally survived by using a tea bag twice, but toilet paper – that was a different business altogether!
Pressure cooker stress levels had never before been a feature of Edith’s shopping experiences but today she had entered an alien world and she was traumatised. Half the shoppers looked like gangsters wearing ridiculous masks. Many others were stopping every couple of minutes to spray sanitizer on their hands. It wasn’t sanitizer that Edith needed. It was sanity! Where was Albert when she needed him the most?
Yet there was still more obstacles to overcome especially with the check out regime. Each till seemed to be manned by someone from another galaxy. There was no usual banter, just military style instructions being barked at each customer. She was gripped with irrational fear. Edith was sure that she would have been exterminated on the spot if one of her words or actions was slightly out of line.
What a relief to finally make it home in one piece albeit a complete nervous wreck with significant signs that her perspiration glands had been working overtime. Tears of relief poured down her battle-scarred face as she cuddled up to Albert on the settee Never before had she so appreciated the embracing comfort of his arms.
“I am sure that things will be back to normal next week” she whimpered. Albert had a different point of view which wisely he kept to himself. He was really looking forward to experiencing more of this new found space which, lockdown had opened up to him.. “Roll on next week” he thought. “Another couple of beers and for an hour at least I can pretend to once again wear the trousers”