|step away from that screwdriver…
I hate B&Q. I hate anything associated with nails and screws and DIY. I don’t understand the attraction and, tbh, if it’s not something you can eat, drink or wear on your feet, I simply don’t understand why you would want to shop for it.
That being said, as we’ve just bought a gorgeous old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, we kinda need to do some stuff with drills and bits of wood, apparently. Well, I say ‘we’, but what I actually mean is ‘Les’.
As for me? I’ll potter around in the background, making cups of tea and generally doing non DIY type things.
Unfortunately, living in the country means that a trip to our ‘local’ B&Q is something that takes up an entire Saturday morning. Due to the fact that it’s such a trek, I tend to accompany Les on his trips and we can do our grocery shopping while we’re there. It just makes sense. It doesn’t, however, stop me from hating every minute.
Who in the world needs all the stuff on the massive floor to ceiling shelves in B&Q?? Who are these people? I’ve never seen quite so many different types of light bulb or even imagined, in my wildest nightmares, that there was 437 different types of dimmer switch. It’s a dimmer switch, FFS. It has two functions: Dim and, well…Not So Dim.
If you, too, have homicidal tendencies in B&Q, these are some tips I use to channel my crazy:
Locate The Candles:
There are always candles in B&Q and they always smell good. Smelling ALL of the candles is often a good way to distract yourself, and often the mere whiff of coconut lime verbena can whisk you away to a secluded beach hut where you can forget you are, in actual fact, in a massive warehouse full of blokes with their arse cracks on show.
Up Your Step Count:
If you’re like me and tend to overindulge on the wine and crisps on a Friday night, being dragged to B&Q on a Saturday morning is the perfect opportunity to do some walking. Firstly, they’re always massive and, secondly, you know you’ll be stuck there for some time while your SO looks at wood in varying sizes for half an hour before deciding that he actually doesn’t want any of them.
Start from the checkouts and do a big loop or, switch it up and walk up and down every aisle – the store is your oyster. This distraction burns off calories as well as stopping you from standing behind your other half, asking ‘how much longer will you be?’. Basically, it’s the perfect way to stop a domestic.
Rediscover The Joy Of Toilet Seats:
Make an instant bee line for the sanitary ware section and spend some time ‘remodelling’, so to speak. Personally, I like to open up all the toilet seat lids and let them fall to see which one make the most noise. I often stand with an undisguised look of utter disgust on my face when I come across a cheap, no slow-close deal, which rattles back off the rim of the toilet when released from its fully open position.
Once you’re done with this (depending on how many toilets your local store actually has), head on over to the shower cubicles and get inside while pretending to wash yourself. Remember to raise your arms above your head and bend down for the soap to make it as real an experience as possible. If nothing else, you will definitely earn a look of respect from some other poor woman who knows that your actions are of an individual desperately trying to save their weekend.
Blog/Catch Up With World News:
I wrote most of this post in the B&Q car park after I’d sniffed all the candles, completed two circuits of the entire store and nipped into all the shower cabinets. Like many people, I take my phone everywhere I go and nothing makes me appreciate it more than when stuck in a DIY store on a Saturday afternoon.
I generally start by Snapchatting my friends to show them the abuse I’m currently being exposed to, before moving on to posting photos on Facebook depicting the largest range of flat headed screws in North Wales.
Once I tire of this, I read the news, check the football fixtures, and use Evernote to plan out the week ahead. Sometimes, my notes are just a constant repeat of the sentence: Do NOT kill LT. Do NOT kill LT’ in a fashion eerily reminiscent of the typewriter scene in The Shining when we realise that Jack Nicholson is losing his shit.
|All work and no play makes Suzi a dull girl….
Take an Interest:
I know, I know – this is almost beyond my capabilities, too but, on occasion, I WILL ask an intelligent question or two about the thingumedoodahs that LT is so carefully comparing to a package of 25 fluglebinders.
Every so often, I even nod my head in a thoughtful manner and say: ‘why, yes – those absolutely do look like the perfect solution to the Dining Table Building Issue we’ve been experiencing’. Or something vaguely similar.
A word of warning, though: this can often lead to further conversations about DIY, generally out of the blue, when you’re deeply engrossed in a really technical bit of the latest episode of Forensic Files.
I find the best way to get round this is by memorising the name of something obscure from the wood cutting tools aisle in store and casually dropping it into the conversation at the appropriate juncture. This’ll soon shut them up. No one likes to think you know more about manly building projects than they do.
How to YOU cope with trips to B&Q?