The car had to go to the garage for some TLC, when I collected it Chris one of the mechanics was showing the girls in the office, his shopping.
His wife had called in a few hours earlier and was described as having a bit of a ‘cob on’ (more than a little cross) about the fact she had ‘nothing to wear’ for the ‘works Christmas do.’ During his lunch break Chris had set out to rectify this problem, buy going and buying his wife an outfit to wear at the ‘do’
Chris is six feet eight inches tall, and is proportionately as wide, I would say the obvious that he built like a brick s**t house, but in truth he is a terrace row of s**t houses, than a detached one, his shoulders are more like escarpments than shoulders, his hands are as big as shovels, he is in his own words built like a ‘mountain man’ I always know when it is Chris who has been trying to coax our car back to life, as soon as you sit in the drivers seat you fall backwards, into the back of the car, when you mange to pull yourself up into a driving position, you find your self staring through the drivers wheel, your line of sight just skimming the bonnet; Chris will have pushed the car seat to the extremes of its settings, to accommodate his larger than average size, it usually takes me about three days to get the car seat back, into position, just to how I like it.
But back to the contents of Chris’s shopping bag, he explains his wife has ‘got some pants’ the garage girls exchange glances, what exactly is about to appear out of the bag? ‘No!’ says Chris ‘I mean she has got some trousers’ and he scoops out of the bag a rather tasteful tunic top , made of satin, in a burgundy shade, with a black brocade pattern, we are suitably impressed, as is the man from the motor factors who has just struggled through the door with a brace of exhaust pipes, ‘Wow’ he says approvingly. But Chris is not finished yet, he crooks his little finger and gentle lifts out of the bag as delicately as if it were fine china cup, a petite evening bag, with a fine chain handle and bejeweled in Byzantine colours, we are now all gob smacked,
Chris explains that he chooses a lot of his wife’s clothes, the last purchases being a coat and boots, he must be a conspicuous shoppers, standing head shoulders and half a torso above the rails of clothes, but he is a shrewd one, he tells us, to be on the safe side, keeps the receipts.
