Up and at em early doors today. Hit a breakfast meeting which always sets me up for the day. Love getting up and out early doors these days though god knows what it will be like when I'm old. You wake up earlier the older you get so I guess I'll waking up before I go to bed in my dotage. We'll see. Days of a long lazy lay in are long gone.
The back is loads better today after seeing my Harley Street Chiropractor yesterday. (Sounds a bit Grandiose and like I'm a big hitter but I'm not he was a referral from someone who is) £60 for 5 minutes stings a little. He's a cool older Canadian guy who treats a lot of the top golfers and we tend to discuss women. He greets me with 'hello shagger' (A bit disconcerting) and then mildly flogs me (verbally) for not seeing him for over a year. At £60 a pop I don't blame me. It's usually a fascinating place as I've bumped into A Listers along with Ruby Wax and John Motson. Today was quiet. Just me. A wannabe that never was.
For anyone mildly interested (not that you should be, apologies for such a dull opening to today's blog) I have an old weakness in my lower back apparently. Slight scoliosis and the years of running has made it weak. The muscles were clearly very angry and in spasm and it was painful and just about to go pop. I saw him, he double clicked me. Told me to 'ice it like fuck' and no running for 3 days. Nuts. Back next week and hopefully that will fix it. I preferred his experience to that of the NHS physio. No offence to her or the NHS. They do a sterling job.
He did suggest i saw his sports therapist masseuse. A massive Estonian woman who is a former professional handball player with hands like shovels. She's massive and brutal and £80 a pop I'd certainly expect a small wank at the end of it for that money but I declined. The Chiro will have to do.
So off I popped to the meeting in reasonable spirits and then hit a cafe with a mate afterwards for a long breakfast and catch up on recent events. It's always good to meet up with pals and have a laugh, I didn't get out until nearly midday and I was ready to tackle the Xmas shopping Part 2.
I hit the Kings Road and went straight to Muji to purchase the specified present a family member requested - An Aroma Diffuser serial number 17654/A-13/B12. (Nothing like specific present buying and fair play it took me around 3 minutes so maybe that is the future). That was the easy part. Unfortunately I have no idea for anyone else which is mistake number 1 in Xmas shopping. If you wander round without an idea it's basically the weekend retail equivalent of being lost in eternal hell.
You need to be ruthless, disciplined and focused. Wandering around shops aimlessly hoping for inspiration leads to burn out. I went in All Saints. Zara, M&S and then mixed it up and hit the Kings Road Farmers market. Now readers of this blog will know I'm not a fan of these. There were far too many Investment Bankers in their weekend look of Gucci loafers with jumpers slung over their shoulders for my liking and there is only so many cupcakes and Goats cheese mini quiches I can handle.
I abandoned ship and headed for Richmond (That's a bit like jumping out of the middle class frying pan into the middle class fire)
I wandered around aimlessly again. Gucci loafers were replaced with Wellingtons and Barbour jackets. Basically i had replaced one shopping street for another and still didn't have a clue. This is when i was called a f****g mincer on the High Street. I was walking along when 4 'geezers' walked towards me. All Timberlanded up, Jeans, check shirts, denim jackets and shaved heads. As I walked by I heard one of them say 'Fucking mincer', which I assumed was at me. To be fair I didn't conform to the standard Rchmond Saturday lunchtime attire code. But jeans, cowboy boots, long military coat and flowing scarf wasn't that Gay in my opinion. It's not like I was in hot pants or something. I thought it was a bit strong and immediately wanted to fight all four of them, particularly when they looked more queer than a Freddie Mercury Convention. 4 lads with shaved hair walking along is a pretty Gay statement. Usually the ones who shout abuse at me for looking queer have got their own sexuality identification issues. It's a case of deflecting anger. They know inside they love cock but are too proud to express it.
Trouble is I'm terrible at fighting so I walked on.
A man who dresses with a hint of queer is comfortable with his heterosexuality. Mind you, the fact I was going into Molton Brown didn't help so i guess i was fair game for abuse. I may as well double up with Laura Ashley home furninshings after.
Molton Brown. What the fuck is that shop all about? Talk about overpriced and rated. It's bubble bath in fancy packaging and boxes. £25 a pop. Nice work if you can get it. Black pepper, Pink Grapefruit body scrub and hand cream. The only hand cream I like is....stop yourself there Nick. There is no need. That's just rude.
I nipped over the road into House Of Fraser to join the other moronic men wandering around like a zombie not knowing what to buy. This is when i hit my annual 'It's Xmas fuck it I'll just spend loads I don't have on people and worry about it later'. I had a massive urge to buy my mother a beautiful Mulberry Leather shoulder satchel. £550 and reet nice. But about £450 over budget. Yes i am one of those consumer lemmings who gets caught up in it. No I am not above it and yes i am a hypocritical idiot. Fact.
I didn't get it as she would have gone nuts. All mothers usually want is 'something little' from their children. As long as they get to feed you 13 tons of Xmas food they are happy.
I went to the make up counter to see if i could guess some 'Clarins products' for her. This is when i encountered the strange phenomenon of the make up assistant. Now why is it that every make up girl is the worst advert for make up? They look as if a bricklayer helped them put it on. I had a very sweet Polish girl who served me. 'What are you looking for Sir', was her first question. This proved rather tricky as looking at all the make up was effectively like looking at the binary code for Chemistry. I was way out of my comfort zone here. All that make up, potions, lotions and sales assistants going through the motions (did you like that bit of poetry there?) I had no idea.
I plumped for the anti aging cream section and she produced a huge gift pack that was on special offer. Now Cosmetic Companies love Xmas gift packs. They basically cram in loads of slightly unnecessary products like shower gel and hand cream into a big box to make it look lovely unfortunately the products inside it are basically useless and women rarely use them. You definately know it's over though when someone buys you a Lynx Gift set' from Superdrug. The end is nigh then.
Despite her sales pitch I decided that buying cosmetics for a woman without a specific order is tantamount to disaster. You may as well put in a card. 'you're looking old put this on your skin to stop you looking haggard. Love you. Nick' I left empty handed.
I managed to get a few items but was getting more frustrated. I couldn't quite nail that great present for people. You know the one where you just know they'll love it and you get it for a bargain so you feel good. I didn't manage it so I figured 4 hours on a Saturday afternoon in the madness was more than enough. Time for the gym, sauna, Saturday papers and relax. What better way is there to relax than laying in a sauna reading a newspaper about A spree killer gunning down 26 children?
The sad thing is you know there would have been endless editorial meetings over that news story. 'Anything under 10 bodies goes on page 6. Anything over that is front page'. Yes News it that callous. We are all consumers now. Of news, of products of everything.
Anyway enough of my inane rambling, Getting called a mincer is playing on my mind. I've got to go and lay down, Now where are those sequined hotpants?.........
xx
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