Getting on my Wickes.
As I
stood in Dunelm Mill in Stevenage yesterday, listening to Toploader blaring from the
Tannoy, I felt like I’d reached a personal low point.
I was shopping for curtains and paint. The prospect of buying either item didn't fill me with joy. My hunt for dull DIY products had already taken in B&Q, The Range and Wren Living – and, unlike the bird in that final shop name, I was rapidly losing the will to live.
There are only so many superstores you can visit in a day before you reach your personal limit. For me, the tipping point was three. Dunelm Mill was a step too far. Dancing in the Moonlight was the icing on the cake.
Thank God my trip to Dunelm Mill was just a one-off. Imagine working there. I’d be barely five minutes into my first shift before I went on a psychopathic rampage.
I was shopping for curtains and paint. The prospect of buying either item didn't fill me with joy. My hunt for dull DIY products had already taken in B&Q, The Range and Wren Living – and, unlike the bird in that final shop name, I was rapidly losing the will to live.
There are only so many superstores you can visit in a day before you reach your personal limit. For me, the tipping point was three. Dunelm Mill was a step too far. Dancing in the Moonlight was the icing on the cake.
Thank God my trip to Dunelm Mill was just a one-off. Imagine working there. I’d be barely five minutes into my first shift before I went on a psychopathic rampage.