E-salvation

The answer is very simple: they are simply moving very quickly. Their goal is to take a deep breath, run into the sales hall, grab a product (two at the most) that vaguely resembles what they want, rush through the purchase point (a self-service one is best) and then through the exit, panting and goggle-eyed as they try to catch their breath. This happens all the time. Regardless of what the man wants to buy: a carton of milk, a pair of socks or a heart pacemaker.

In the evening I often drive to a nearby supermarket with my wife to do what is known as quick shopping. And, as everyone knows, quick shopping is a job for a real man. We have this competition: my wife makes herself comfortable on the passenger seat, she chooses a song from our car’s audio selection, puts it on, and I have to return to the car with full bags before the song ends. If I make it, I can drink what I’ve bought. If I fail, then you-know-who is going to drink it... and with that kind of incentive, I have naturally never failed in this mission. In case you were thinking that I’m some kind of chauvinist, I will also add that we have a similar contest when my wife does the shopping – I can also select a track while waiting for her in the car and she has to come back before it finishes. To give her a chance, I typically choose a five-hour opera by Richard Wagner.

Quick shopping is easy in the evening because most customers are guys coming back from work anxious to install themselves in front of their TVs as quickly as possible. The evening requirements of such a man are usually made up of a four-pack of beer, a frozen pizza and maybe some low-fat yoghurt (just to keep up appearances...), so getting through the checkout takes an average of eight seconds. The purchases are well thought-out and the money prepared in advance. There is no time for such unexpected outbursts as: “Oh! I forgot about the tofu!” – followed by a sprint back to the sales hall, only to return to a queue that is at least a quarter of an hour longer than it was before.

It is also common knowledge that you should not shop before noon, when every shop is inundated by all the old ladies living in the neighbourhood. I have always wondered why there are no bollards at the entrances to supermarkets to limit the width of the trolleys they can bring in. After all, you can’t ride a bike around a shop, so why are you allowed to enter it with a two-wheeled trolley-bag with the dimensions of a Cadillac? And because shopping is a social activity for pensioners, a chat with the cashier is an important part of the process. About prices, children, grandchildren and modern times... And if there isn’t a pharmacy with a sympathetic assistant nearby, they also chat about illnesses and complain about the waiting lists for medical treatment.

I’m not sure why Dante didn’t mention this, but for sure in one of the circles of hell the sinners have to spend the whole of eternity clothes shopping. Where’s the charm in spending long hours in tight, stuffy changing rooms, desperately trying to fit into items of clothing handed to you by a shop assistant? And if you are taller than 170 cm and your waist is slightly wider than that of a meerkat, then you know how it ends each time – the woman will finally scream across the entire universe: “Too small again?! They don’t make them any bigger!”.

Men don’t like shopping. NOT ONE of them. Married women are fully aware of this. And to unmarried women who are still choosing their husbands-to-be, I will give you one piece of advice: do not be fooled. If your potential partner assures you that he just loves being dragged from one boutique to another, and his greatest ambition has always been to carry your shopping bags, don’t merely give him a suspicious look – just kick him in the groin and run away. He has to be drunk or crazy or he really needs your flat. Possibly all three.

Fortunately, one day someone invented online shopping. I have always wondered why in adverts for online shops it is always the women who yelp in delight at the sight of the courier, when it is clear that it is exclusively men who react in this way. Because how can you react with any kind of reserve and dignity when the guy wearing a UPS hat has just brought you a new fibreglass fishing rod, some velour floor mats for your beloved Daewoo, or the latest book by Jeremy Clarkson?