Preparations
Just two little days till I get on the flight to New York. Woohoo! Can't wait.
Anyway, on surveying my wardrobe, I realised that most of the rags dangling therein would not be out of place in one of those Victoria and Albert museum past fashions exhibitions. These were not the trendy threads that I imagined myself swanning about the Big Apple in. There was nothing to be done about it: I would simply have to go shopping!
And God do I hate shopping! I know, I know: I'm gay; I'm not supposed to be able to go more than two days without needing to spend £500 on the latest Dolce & Gabbana must-have, but it's just too stressful! You walk through the shop door and within seconds the first of the 'ever-so-helpful' shop assistants sweep down upon you to ask if you need any help. With what precisely might I need help? Looking at things? I can manage that just fine, thanks! Finding things I like? How the fuck are they going to know what I like! I end up being chased round the store by these intrusive busybodies until I eventually can't take any more and am harried out of the door.
If I actually manage to find anything I like I have to go through the torture out trying it on. That's if anything vaguely approximating my size is on the rack, rather than the XXL tents or XXS corsets that only ever seem to be left by the time I get there. Skulking into the funfair hall of mirrors that is the changing room, you find it has been lit in the most unflattering manner possible so that even if you were wearing a bespoke £10,000 garment by Versace (rather than the badly-made £10 Topman T-
shirt you actually have in your hand), you'd still look like a sack of shit. You look around nervously, hoping that no stray Japanese whaling ships might be passing through and try to harpoon you by mistake. And I'm sure the only point of the person at the entrance to the changing room is to make you feel even worse when you have to hand them back because they don't fit. You can almost hear them whisper under their breath, "Well, did you really think you were going to fit into that, fatso?!"
Anyway, despite it all, I did actually manage to pick up a few new threads though, as soon as I got back from the shops, I had to run to the gym and it's only now two days later that I've actually been able to bring myself eat.
Anyway, on surveying my wardrobe, I realised that most of the rags dangling therein would not be out of place in one of those Victoria and Albert museum past fashions exhibitions. These were not the trendy threads that I imagined myself swanning about the Big Apple in. There was nothing to be done about it: I would simply have to go shopping!
And God do I hate shopping! I know, I know: I'm gay; I'm not supposed to be able to go more than two days without needing to spend £500 on the latest Dolce & Gabbana must-have, but it's just too stressful! You walk through the shop door and within seconds the first of the 'ever-so-helpful' shop assistants sweep down upon you to ask if you need any help. With what precisely might I need help? Looking at things? I can manage that just fine, thanks! Finding things I like? How the fuck are they going to know what I like! I end up being chased round the store by these intrusive busybodies until I eventually can't take any more and am harried out of the door.
If I actually manage to find anything I like I have to go through the torture out trying it on. That's if anything vaguely approximating my size is on the rack, rather than the XXL tents or XXS corsets that only ever seem to be left by the time I get there. Skulking into the funfair hall of mirrors that is the changing room, you find it has been lit in the most unflattering manner possible so that even if you were wearing a bespoke £10,000 garment by Versace (rather than the badly-made £10 Topman T-
shirt you actually have in your hand), you'd still look like a sack of shit. You look around nervously, hoping that no stray Japanese whaling ships might be passing through and try to harpoon you by mistake. And I'm sure the only point of the person at the entrance to the changing room is to make you feel even worse when you have to hand them back because they don't fit. You can almost hear them whisper under their breath, "Well, did you really think you were going to fit into that, fatso?!"Anyway, despite it all, I did actually manage to pick up a few new threads though, as soon as I got back from the shops, I had to run to the gym and it's only now two days later that I've actually been able to bring myself eat.
OK, so maybe I am a little gay after all...
posted by The Venial Sinner at 7:54 pm
12 Comments:
If it makes you feel any better, I'm female and could have written nearly the same rant.
I know you have good intentions Kate but i am not sure that will be particularly reassuring to any gay guy! B x
Nah, I'm just pointing out that shopping isn't necessarily a "girly" thing...
Although having said that, if I see a pair of shoes I like in a window... ;-)
Why are all the best writers from the UK? can't wait for an update!
check out my blog, it's in the same vein:
www.angelcitysdevil.com
Hi, I have just found the perfect site for you! :)
www.venials.com
LOL
Come back! We miss you. And while I'm at it, here's a new blog from another disgruntled doc:
http://laylasramblings.blogspot.com
oh the blogosphere is empty without you.
I know you're probably in the slough of despond along with all those other candidates for a trip to hell in a handcart, but give us a break. Post. Please. we wanna know what happens next, unlike my own 3 readers a week, but heell it makes me feel better and as a medic you'd appreciate that.
lizzy
As a gay boy stuck in a country with NO retail theraphy oppertunities at all, I loved this post. Keep 'em coming.
Greetings from Kenya.
Hello. My name is Woodrow Boyer. I’d like to ask for a moment of your time.
I am a survivor of Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis of over 70% of my body, brought on by ingestion of a Sulfa-drug. Other than sporadic ½ attempts at research – there is very little known about Stevens-Johnson syndrome and Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis. Up until now, people had no one source for true information on SJS and TEN.
Stevens – Johnson syndrome and Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis is an insidious condition in which the human body fools itself into thinking its skin and mucus membranes, both inside the body and outside the body, are foreign invaders; therefore the body attempts to rid itself of the skin and internal organs. This condition is usually caused by an immunological response to an ingested drug; usually an antibiotic or an INSAID {Advil, Ibuprofen}.
Most physicians have never seen an active case; and if they were to, they are not taught in medical school the protocol for treating it. Until now, there has been no one standard of care for SJS / TEN.
I have just published a new book that your house physicians need to read on Stevens – Johnson Syndrome and Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis.
This book is the first of its kind, placing all information known about this condition in one place for informational reference. This book contains invaluable information that may save your life, the life of a loved one, or it may help the survivor come to terms in living with this condition. Includes little known long-term effects and treatment protocols for physicians. A must read for every survivor, physician, and nurse.
Please consider buying copies for your house physicians.
The link to the book is http://www.lulu.com/content/1016707
Thank you for your time and your consideration.
Woodrow A. Boyer
"OK, so maybe I am a little gay after all..."
haha. Yeah you are. But I love it if you tell a shop assistant that her assistance is not needed. You will look like you are very mean. :)
Enjoy,
Peny@discount uniforms
Dear Venial Sinner,
I know you've not blogged for many years now, but I'm giving you a try just in case you pick up comments...
My name is Robbie, and I'm editing In Rude Health, a book of humorous medical anecdotes that will be illustrated and published at Christmas-time by Freight Books, a small Scottish publisher (www.freightbooks.co.uk). In my research for this book I've been reading through blogs such as yours, and I was wondering if you would have any you'd like to contribute. Naturally, the more risqué the might be the better, but what I'm aiming to do is make something funny and enjoyable, but which also shows Joe public just what sort of things you folk in the NHS have to deal with.
Naturally all stories submitted will be treated as completely anonymous. I do hope you will consider submitting a story or two. Please email them to: inrudehealth@gmail.com
Best wishes,
Robbie
Hi, Nice site I enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sharing. Would it be possible if I contact you through your email? Please email me back. Thanks!
Aaron Grey
aarongrey112 at gmail.com
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