It would never happen to me.
Oh, how many times I have sworn this. Swore it as some fogie rams their shopping trolley onto the bus, rolling over toes, forcing everyone just a little bit closer, closing that precious inch gap that separates you from the alcohol-drenched man behind you. Then tries to shove the massive thing onto the luggage rack, which inevitably has 2 other trolleys, all exploding with groceries and smelly half price fish and Lord only knows what else. Then rides for exactly one stop, repeating the entire process in reverse order.
I will never, ever get one of those stupid trolleys. My friend in Germany calls them old lady bags, only in German. I am not an old lady. I am a strong, hip, urban adult who carries her shopping on her shoulders, as God intended!
So how did this end up in my kitchen?
It was for a special event! A one off – I wasn’t going to use it for daily stuff. Argos had like 20 different kinds. I scanned reviews until I found the highest rated at lowest price – and found the monstrosity pictured above. None of the reviewers were under the age of 65. Oh, wait, wait! There’s one! A female age 25-35 thought it was ‘brilliant’! But it was a birthday present for her mum. Sigh.
I hate you, Argos. Damn your cheap, convenient, clickable shopping! So now I have an old lady bag.
And, um. I can’t believe I’ve lived here for 2.75 years without it. Do you know how many bags of freaking compost I can stuff in that thing? Like 30 litres! And all the half priced fish you can eat!