Unsurprisingly, the
majority of our outings have been for the sole purpose of interior shopping.
Not the pleasant kind. The wood-cutting / wall-measuring / sacrificing-sleep
kind. Last night’s trip was equally unpleasant as we (Mother) searched for paint.
Heading towards Miguel Angel – or ‘Michelangelo’ as Mother insists on calling
him – and he instantly looks terrified, his reflexes telling him to run to the
nearest exist.
“HELLO AGAIN! Now, I
need your help. Paint. I want more paint. Let me see your colour chart.”
Having spent three
hours at home deciding on the exact colour, it did not deter Mother from
spending another three hours with several colour charts in her hand, looking at
four colours that honestly looked exactly
the same. Poor Miguel was keeping his patience but losing his balance and
found another, shorter co-worker to lean on. Oh dear. Mother roped shorter-man
into her dilemma.
“Nope. I’m going to
have to take this chart home. Can you give me one to take home please?”
Miguel then
apologetically told Mother that in fact it is not like England and these colour
charts are for in-store use only…
“WHAT?! What on earth
do you mean?! What do people do when they need to choose a
wall colour?!”
“Well usually they
just come and tell me they would like. ‘Pink’ for example, and we go from
there. They just sort of… know what they want their walls look like.”
We are now stuck in
some horrible limbo where Miguel is awaiting Mother’s sudden decision and
Mother is waiting for Miguel to come up with a solution to this “ludicrous
Spanish policy”.
Ten minutes later and
the awful silence is broken by Miguel; “un momento, por favour” – and he trots
to the front of the shop (I assumed he was just exhausted and planned a getaway
but apparently not).
“He’s going to go and
photocopy the chart isn’t he, darling?! Well, it won’t come out right unless
it’s a Canon.”
He trots back. The next
few minutes were hideous as Mother not only proposed the idea of going against
store policy and ‘borrowing’ the chart but persisted until the store closed.
Poor Miguel had no other option than to detach the heavily-secured colour chart
just to get rid of us.
Mother got precisely what
she wanted. Naturally.
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