Entry for 9th November, 2007

I ventured out to the New Year sales. The adverts on the television were all promising a thrilling shopping experience which, judging by the happy shoppers in the commercials, must rank in terms of life experience somewhere up with waking up next to Angelina Jolie with her murmuring softly in your ear : “Alan B – that was the best night of my life. Let’s make it the best morning too.” (This isn’t something that has actually happened to me. The only time I woke up next to Angelina, she didn’t actually speak. She didn’t need to. Her smile said it all.)
So, seduced by the adverts I headed off to my local shopping centre. I was surprised to find it looking a bit like a set from “Twenty Eight Days Later”. Instead of rosy cheeked be-scarved shoppers, I was surprised to find the shuffling ranks of the undead. It was as if there had been some horrible virus had been spread in cranberry sauce over the festive period, and those infected had been turned into shopping zombies.
I turned tail and fled. In my rear view mirror I’m sure I saw something horrible – something that had once need human – shambling towards me. It was clutching a Next bag and mouthing the words “Two For One” repeatedly.