Wednesday, 13 May 2009

BBQ Adventure

Next weekend is the boyfriend’s birthday. He has decided that he wants to have a BBQ to celebrate. Sort of like he did last year but this time he’s organising it. (I vow never to throw a surprise party again.)

So last Saturday we walked an epic 5km to Argos to buy a BBQ. I don’t know why but I always feel dirty sitting in Argos. Now please don’t get me wrong and call me a snob. I’m just as cheap as the next bastard. For us cheap folk Argos is like our Mecca. It’s that I feel like I need to shower or scratch my skin off. Without fail there is always a kid running around in the store with a snotty nose and no shoes on. AND there is always a woman hanging around out the front with a pram and 300 gold chains around her neck. It feels a bit like a job Centre (Centre link.)

So like most of our Argos trips, I was keen to get in there, do our business and then get out. But you know what’s coming next. Justin plus shopping equals 30mins of contemplation over 3 makes with a total of £10 price difference. Now I find this a little pointless as he spent 1hr on the website before we even left the house. I tried to help in the decision making process but in the end I ended up bored and loitering around the cheap jewellery display case. I had to giggle at the take a ticket and wait to be called system at the Jewellery counter. Wonder if they do that at boodles too?

Justin called me over and together we chose a BBQ worthy of our yard. Or in other words, I told him to pick one quick smart because I was bored, hungry and likely to throw a strop within the hour. (Ticking time bomb threat, works every time!)

Before we left the house, Justin had told me that we would get a cab back from Argos seeing as we would have a box… HE LIED! Instead of a cab ride, we walked, yes we walked. We walked the 5km treck home again but this time with a big fuck off box.

Now as with all Argos purchases, it’s not just enough to buy it and bring it home; you also have to have put the bloody thing together. Yes people, its DIY time! So we’re outside with our big fuck off box pulling all the bits out. I turn to Justin, “Here’s the instruction’s honey.” Justin laughs and says, “I don’t need those, I’m a man!” All I can say is, putting a BBQ together without the instructions is a bit like paint by numbers but without the numbers. You know what should go where by the power of common sense but it just doesn’t turn out quite the same as the picture on the box…

So now we a have a fully functional BBQ!! Just don’t try to move it because the wheels are on sideways, the handles are upside down and the grill is a balancing act worthy of applause …

The Picture on the Box

It's kneehigh to a Grasshopper!

No comments:

Post a Comment