Clothes

I was sitting outside the changing rooms in Asda Toryglen, waiting for my sister to try on - oh, I don't know - maybe seven tops, out of which she might pick two as being suitable. A young guy came and sat down on the pouffe next to mine. We looked at each other and sighed together. Then his partner came out of the changing rooms and said:

- What about this?

- Aye, that's quite nice, he said.

She flounced back inside. He sighed again and looked at his watch.

- You on a deadline? I asked.

- We're due at a wedding in half an hour, he said.

- Where's that? I asked.

- Larkhall, he said.

- You're not gonny make it, I said. What's the problem?

It turned out his partner had bought a top for this wedding and he hadn't been enthusiastic enough when she showed it off two hours before. Hence the dash to Asda.

- What was up with it? I asked.

- It was yella.

Fair enough. I gave it a bit of thought.

- The next one she comes out with, you have to say 'Wow!'

He thought about this.

- What if it's boggin?

- It's still wow or you'll be here all day.

When I think about clothes shopping I realise my bro in law owes me big time for him being able to sit in his comfy chair on a Saturday afternoon listening to the footie on the radio while I trawl the shops with my sister. Mind you, my shopping skills are now so sharp that at one point in Monsoon a woman who had obviously heard me advising my sister said: Jean, are you there? What do you think of this? I should charge money.