Karen Goes Shopping, Meets A Guy With Bad Hygiene Problems, And Laments The Loss Of Good Blaze Books
The Tall Guy and I have just returned from food shopping. My brother and sister took turns to watch the house while we were on our jollies, and somehow managed to eat us out of house and home at the same time.
We shop in Sainsbury’s because it’s the nearest supermarket to us, and they also have quite a good variety of foods that you don’t find in other supermarkets.
Paul and I were browsing through the DVD aisle when we suddenly caught a whiff of the most disgusting smell I’ve come across in a while.
It was a combination of underpants that hadn’t been washed for weeks, a body that hadn’t been in contact with soap for months, and dirty feet that happened to be blessed with that not-so-faint smell of Gorgonzola cheese, blended together with raw sewerage.
In short, it was f*cking foul.
When I looked up, I came face to face with the owner of the smell, and only just managed not to throw up in my mouth, as the stinking odour increased ten-fold, and nearly made me swoon.
I smiled faintly at him, and quickly moved away so that I could breathe clean air again.
The guy looked perfectly normal. If I had stood at the other end of the aisle where I could see him, but not smell him, I would never have assumed that such a rancid odour could come from such a person. Looks can be sooooo deceptive. Sigh.
I know that interest rates in this country keep going up, thus making it hard for home-owners to pay for their mortgage, but surely soap is cheap enough for one to indulge? Sheesh.
I had a shower when I got home. I don’t think I need to explain why.
Whilst shopping, I also realised how much I missed Florida, when the mealy-mouthed cashier didn’t even bother engaging us in polite conversation. I’m normally quite a chatty person, so I’ll speak to anybody, especially supermarket cashiers, but this particular cashier seemed to be immune to my considerable charms. If the bitch had smiled, I swear her face would have caved in. Miserable cow.
Maybe her personal life was falling apart, but I certainly didn’t know that, and to be honest, I really didn’t care. What I do know is that she came across as ignorant and rude, and as a paying customer, that’s just not good enough. If things are that bad, she should have just stayed home, and taken some anti-depressants. Isn’t that what all the other Britons are doing?
Oh how I long for sunny skies and people who know what customer service means. Sigh.
On a completely different note… what the hell has happened to good Blaze books? Where did they go?
I discovered Blaze about two years ago, and in those days, for category books, the story lines were appealing, and the books themselves were well-written.
Not so these days. It seems to me that some of the Blaze books have the laziest writing and flimsiest plot devices I’ve come across in a while.
Whilst I was in the US, I picked up a couple of Blaze books, and attempted to read them. They were utter bollocks.
One of the books was called So Many Men, by Dorie Graham (sorry, I can’t be arsed linking) and being familiar with Ms Graham’s work, I at least thought it would keep me amused for a while.
I was wrong. It was an utter snoozefest.
The heroine was basically a slut who had slept with many men, (this is what attracted me to the book in the first place) but somehow managed to keep all these guys as really good friends. Enter the uptight hero, who obviously ends up being the one to make her see the error of her sluttish ways. Bastard.
The plot device really appealed to me, because generally, heroines are rarely allowed to have sex with more than two people before the hero pops up, so I liked the thought of a gal who really enjoyed sex, was sexy, and knew it, without any of the blushing coyness and the bullshit.
It could have been good, but somehow the author managed to make it blander than bland, by offering too many justifications for why the heroine had slept with so many men. Why couldn’t she just sleep with them because she was a raving slut who loved sex? Works for me.
Also, I don’t know many gals who have all their former lovers virtually living with them, helping them out when necessary, and being a shoulder to cry on when things went tits-up with the current lover? What kind of f*cked up alternative universe is that?
I hope Blaze improves soon, because otherwise, I’ll cancel my subscription with Mills and Boon. £12 per month for crap books is just not my idea of value for money. Sigh.
We shop in Sainsbury’s because it’s the nearest supermarket to us, and they also have quite a good variety of foods that you don’t find in other supermarkets.
Paul and I were browsing through the DVD aisle when we suddenly caught a whiff of the most disgusting smell I’ve come across in a while.
It was a combination of underpants that hadn’t been washed for weeks, a body that hadn’t been in contact with soap for months, and dirty feet that happened to be blessed with that not-so-faint smell of Gorgonzola cheese, blended together with raw sewerage.
In short, it was f*cking foul.
When I looked up, I came face to face with the owner of the smell, and only just managed not to throw up in my mouth, as the stinking odour increased ten-fold, and nearly made me swoon.
I smiled faintly at him, and quickly moved away so that I could breathe clean air again.
The guy looked perfectly normal. If I had stood at the other end of the aisle where I could see him, but not smell him, I would never have assumed that such a rancid odour could come from such a person. Looks can be sooooo deceptive. Sigh.
I know that interest rates in this country keep going up, thus making it hard for home-owners to pay for their mortgage, but surely soap is cheap enough for one to indulge? Sheesh.
I had a shower when I got home. I don’t think I need to explain why.
Whilst shopping, I also realised how much I missed Florida, when the mealy-mouthed cashier didn’t even bother engaging us in polite conversation. I’m normally quite a chatty person, so I’ll speak to anybody, especially supermarket cashiers, but this particular cashier seemed to be immune to my considerable charms. If the bitch had smiled, I swear her face would have caved in. Miserable cow.
Maybe her personal life was falling apart, but I certainly didn’t know that, and to be honest, I really didn’t care. What I do know is that she came across as ignorant and rude, and as a paying customer, that’s just not good enough. If things are that bad, she should have just stayed home, and taken some anti-depressants. Isn’t that what all the other Britons are doing?
Oh how I long for sunny skies and people who know what customer service means. Sigh.
On a completely different note… what the hell has happened to good Blaze books? Where did they go?
I discovered Blaze about two years ago, and in those days, for category books, the story lines were appealing, and the books themselves were well-written.
Not so these days. It seems to me that some of the Blaze books have the laziest writing and flimsiest plot devices I’ve come across in a while.
Whilst I was in the US, I picked up a couple of Blaze books, and attempted to read them. They were utter bollocks.
One of the books was called So Many Men, by Dorie Graham (sorry, I can’t be arsed linking) and being familiar with Ms Graham’s work, I at least thought it would keep me amused for a while.
I was wrong. It was an utter snoozefest.
The heroine was basically a slut who had slept with many men, (this is what attracted me to the book in the first place) but somehow managed to keep all these guys as really good friends. Enter the uptight hero, who obviously ends up being the one to make her see the error of her sluttish ways. Bastard.
The plot device really appealed to me, because generally, heroines are rarely allowed to have sex with more than two people before the hero pops up, so I liked the thought of a gal who really enjoyed sex, was sexy, and knew it, without any of the blushing coyness and the bullshit.
It could have been good, but somehow the author managed to make it blander than bland, by offering too many justifications for why the heroine had slept with so many men. Why couldn’t she just sleep with them because she was a raving slut who loved sex? Works for me.
Also, I don’t know many gals who have all their former lovers virtually living with them, helping them out when necessary, and being a shoulder to cry on when things went tits-up with the current lover? What kind of f*cked up alternative universe is that?
I hope Blaze improves soon, because otherwise, I’ll cancel my subscription with Mills and Boon. £12 per month for crap books is just not my idea of value for money. Sigh.
posted by Karen Scott at
11:16 pm
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