HECKLER

Shopping

"I hate shopping, shopping of any kind - clothes, furniture, linen, shoes, groceries, you name it." Photo: Bloomberg

FEMALE relatives have declared me the family anomaly. They have convinced me I have a defective gene. Why? Because I hate shopping, shopping for anything - clothes, furniture, linen, shoes, groceries, you name it.

I cannot find what I want; I snarl at offers of help; I dither; I end up buying nothing or closing my mind and just grabbing something. It is painful. I am positively allergic to shopping.

I have devised a coping strategy. I make a list of exactly what I need. If I find the items, I buy. If not, I pass.

I have the weekly grocery chore down to a fine art. Armed with the list, I charge around the supermarket with a trolley, snatch the listed items, check out, and thank the gods it is over for another week. I know exactly where everything is, which aisles to traverse, which to bypass - until some marketing bright spark decides to foil my purchasing ploy. A deliberate sabotage of my tactical formula to compensate for a shopping aversion.

I am in the supermarket, head down, list in hand, trolley on autopilot, passing the tinned fish section. Without looking, without pausing, I grab a tin of tuna. Arrrgh! It is soft, spongy. I drop it in shock. A packet of crumpets. The shelves of this section are stocked with wrapped bread and stuff of that ilk. I check where I am. Second aisle. Tick. I check the row signs. Bread and cakes. Confusion. Then I see a young woman further along, changing labels below packets of rice where spreads used to be. Careful not to butt her with the trolley, I ask what is going on.

She smiles. ''I'm re-stocking the shelves.''

''I can see that. But why is rice where Vegemite used to be?''

''We're re-organising the stock.''

''Why?'' I swallow the acid on my tongue.

Another sweet smile. ''To make it shopper-friendly and freshen up the experience for you.''

''Huh!'' I move on, keeping a rein on the urge to spit the dummy. After all, she is only following orders of those with marketing degrees.

I take time to try and fathom the reasoning behind the

re-arrangement of grocery items. Is it more logical to put the biscuit range next to non-perishable milks? I cannot see why.

This undermining of my carefully constructed shopping plan happens on a regular basis. When least expected. When I have been lulled into the prospect of in and out of the supermarket with exactly what I need in the minimum of time wasted.

Whatever the premise behind this frequent inane activity, I still believe it is a conspiracy to frustrate people like me who have been born with a so-called defective gene.

Elly Inta