Get Me Out Of Here

The last one on the shelf

Note to one and all: Don’t buy it…

On many occasions I’ve stood by a supermarket shelf and found exactly what I’m looking for, except it’s the LAST ONE.

  • Half of the brain says “go for it anyway, it could be all right this time.”
  • The other half says “but it’s not worth the hassle, there must be something wrong with it.”
  • Then the two halves conspire and pose the question, “well it ticks all the boxes right? So bet on the odds dude.”

However, fate always intervenes and said item turns out to be a complete, absolute, total, “not fit for purpose” jobby.

So on the last of the last on the shelf of life history lesson: I remember the last egg timer that didn’t ring. The last “self assembly” nest of tables with a leg missing. The last X-Box with a controller that didn’t work. The last skirt in my size with a broken zip. The last set of “bargain price” designer bedding, (plucks and holes neatly folded out of sight).

Oh, and let’s not forget the beautiful big glass mirror, truly a sight to behold, but they were all stored in the warehouse (??) After half an hour of waiting for the “last one”  to eventually appear. We took a peak before leaving the shop. It wasn’t the one we’d chosen and it WAS the last one we would’ve, even if there were 700 to spare. Looked like something Aunty Betty might have been delighted with in 1934…     

The final straw was a couple of years ago when Dave bought the last suitcase on the shelf. And we were on the last minute buying the darn thing, so no prior security checks were completed. Unfortunately he carried it to the checkout using the handle. We got home and discovered one of the wheels had dropped off somewhere, and it wasn’t near us. Finally the balance had been tipped. (Excuse pun).

Since then I was cured, immune to calculating the odds of buying the last one on the shelf and losing the bet. No, I’d put those days behind me…    

But recently, I’ve fallen off the wagon, whilst on the “Tesco Trauma” run this week I discovered the perfect toaster. It was intended to replace the one that’s lost it’s ability to create two pieces of toast at the same time. But there was only one left… I should’ve known better when the security seal was broken. Turns out it won’t even create any toast at all. We’ve tried different plug sockets, and Dave changed the fuse, nada, nothing…

So we’ll be off to get our money back next week, and we’ll choose one from the shelf with numerous crappy ones, the sad articles no-one likes, but they work. I’ll have to hide it an a drawer out of sight, but at least we’ll have bread that transforms into toast.

Ending on a truly corny note: Two for the price of one…

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