The mystery of a mystery shopper - how will you do as a person?

So here I am, like a stealth book character, being a mystery shopper in a branch of a well known SA coffee shop (or full restaurant in some areas). 

The brief is extensive and the questions on the app aplenty as you go through the process of cleanliness, ambiance, staff attention, uniforms, products available and in stock, your welcome, getting coffee like you ordered it (extra hot), how your food was and your sweet item (you have to have both, so devastated). In addition how loyalty app was handled, was it offered and on and on. With photos of everything they ask. Luckily today people take photos of food when they go out, so I did not look out of place.  

For this I claim and get my bill refunded to me and in addition a crisp R100 for my trouble. I can do a free meal and R100 thank you very much. Buys me 3 coffees at my favourite hangout in Gordons Bay. They have a lesser price for refills which is unheard of anywhere else that I go. Plus the two owners are really lekker. I will give them a mention in the PS below, however I cannot disclose the store brand I am currently sitting at. 

How has it gone so far? Average. Now since I visit this brand (restaurant) quite regularly somewhere else, I am used to superior service and a fantastic visit start to finish. This is not because I am now a regular, it was like that from the day they opened. 

So back to where I am. From when you step into the store, the app is asking ongoing questions, and they leave nothing unasked. I am surprised I did not have to check the floor for dust. But hey. You paying me. I will lick it if needed. So the greeting was non existent, they couldn't provide a cash slip, only a card slip, which is a problem as I have to submit the slip, they didn't ask if I had app, or suggest it - I waited until she handed me card machine. However the staff are very friendly, the store is pristine, the music not intrusive, the service fast. I just wish the loo wasn't on the complete other side of the centre. I have to have two hot drinks, which means that my 58 year old bladder needs to go 6 times. I am not packing up my whole laptop etc. for that. I shall pee in my jeans if needed. Yuck. 

Based on yesterday's blog, the spoil my fun two ladies have arrived and now I know all their business. I have put my buds in and James Blunt is belting. I can still hear them. Why????? Her marital issues are not my issues. 

The mystery shopper has made me think of something akin to it. 

Who are you when you are being observed without you knowing it. When someone watches you and your interactions - whether at work, or how you deal with a certain person. How you behave in a store, at an appointment, at home. Imagine someone with an app watching your interactions. Are you as nice as you think, do you treat others like you think you do. Are you respectful to those you should be. Are you neat and presentable, do you greet people nicely, do you chat about relevant and fun topics. Do you have depth (like a vast display of food in a glass display unit). Are you generous? Do you say thank you (my fav). The list is endless. 

Think to yourself for a moment - if a mystery shopper was marking you right now, how would you rate? No-one is perfect, but what could you improve?

till next time

c'est la vie xxx

PS Gordons Bay Coffee Cafe - Fatima and Melissa 

What winds you up

There is surely a time in everyone's lives when some things just push all their buttons. Or as my dear dad would say "gives one the shits". I don't know if it gets worse as you get older, but some of these having been giving me the ....... for at least 30 years. 

Now the last decades have brought us the mobile phone, which in time brought us irritation number one. People who sit in coffee shops (or restaurants) and take video calls or make business calls with their earphones in and laptops open. There is no reason, not one, unless your speaker is broken, not our problem, for having a conversation on speaker in a place where other people are working, relaxing or just not wanting to hear you and Tant Sannie chat on speaker or video or listen to Estate Agent, or a guy who is obviously just the man, speaking loudly whilst on earphones making sure everyone can hear just how successful he is. I asked a lady to tone it down recently after one hour. She shrugged me off. Those that know me will know how that ended. Also, why do you have to take a video call then. Go sit outside on a bench and take it. Even better get a take out coffee and stay out. Or take a normal call, at a normal volume.

Then. If you go and have a meal etc. with a friend, I am not referring to 8 people having a fun night out, I am talking about two people, and men are mostly the culprits here, why do you have to discuss your work or personal business at volume 9. Usually while doing an interview, sales pitch or just showing how big you are.  At the last 4 coffee shops I went to this was the case. Two guys at volume 900. Surely you can hear your own volume.

Irritation number 3. Why must you talk throughout a movie, show, concert or any other outing where your mouth is supposed to be closed. Whisper if you want to talk the entire time. At James Blunt last week the two women behind us wanted to catch up for 2 hours. The louder he sang, the louder they shouted over him. Why not just go and sit at Steers and get a burger and catch up while your husbands watch the show. If you go to a movie, why do you have to have your phone on super bright and Whatsapp the whole time. Unless you an online call service agent bunking work. 

Then the I want to be addressed in my home language thing. Recently a guy walked up to a pay point at a Supermarket in Paardevlei. He spoke to the cashier in Afrikaans. She replied in English. He insisted on paying for his frozen fish and 2 lit Coke whilst speaking Afrikaans. He then made a fuss over "do you want a bag" as she could not say it in Afrikaans. He went large. I am still trying find out, since English was her 2nd language and not his, then what was his second language? Xhosa? No. I can assure you he of the big mouth does not speak any of the other languages besides English and Afrikaans. And please do not come to me with the people must be served in their language. So when Person A goes into Mr. B's shop, will he manage to deal with her in her language? No. English is a business language. Get over yourself. And why must I stand behind you in the queue so you can do all this. Why. 

Then my absolute fuse blower. The use of the word "them". Not in reference to other people, or other situations or other groups. No the word "them" when applying to a certain race, usually in a Community Group posting - look at the beach litter (btw we have one of the cleanest beaches, I can see it 24/7). Then someone will come along "dis hulle wat dit doen". Somehow hulle always comes from a certain sector. I got bad service in Checkers today (want hulle weet nie van beter nie). Or the pale lady who let her kids leave all their icecream papers on the beach where I was sitting because "hulle sal dit skoonmaak". Them. Best you walk a wide berth around me with that generalisation. Or better still - did you see in the media yesterday that Orania now has their own bus service?. No "them" there. Off you go. 

And lastly, the lack of use of the word thank you. For a gift, a call, something done for you - big or small - a favour, a treat, a coffee, anything. Say thank you. If your parents didn't teach you or insist on it as a child, I will happily teach you as an adult. No one has to remind you, no one has to ask you to say thank you. Just do it. It's a no brainer. 

Ok, before I work myself up - 

Till next time

c'est la vie xxx

If I am running you know someone is chasing me

Well that saying is one that would always have applied to me. Understand me nicely. I don't run. You know when someone says "let me run and fetch this" - I don't even do figure of speech running. 

Then at the end of July, after a lecture delivered by my kids as to my health, and do I want to live to 100 and do I want to still be able to play with my future grandkids and so on and so forth, I had a think. My exercise regime (apparently my beach walks are not enough) and great love of all things chocolate, had become concerning to them. Hence the lecture. I said ok (thinking in my mind jeez who is the parent). However I realised that I was panting a lot (between fridge and couch) and did sleep badly, have enormous stress (ok haven't found that solution yet), a new heartburn habit and some other things. 

So I started the only thing that works for me - calorie counting. You may think it is laborious but everything has a kj label on it, and with a simple app on your phone it is easy. Can't find it? Just scan the product barcode and boom. Once you get into it, it is quick, effective and means you continually can see how much you can still eat. My daily limit is 5323 kj.  You may think it is little, however when you cut out the massive portions, it is enough. You have to get used to it, but you won't starve. For the first 5 weeks I did no chocolate, no treats, nothing. Now if I want to have some chocolate, then I know that 5 little blocks is one serving and will cost me 473 kj. However there is no point in eating 5000 kj of junk. It does not mean that some days I want to put an entire cheesecake in my mouth. 

Are there cheat days - obviously, I normally use weigh day as a small cheat day, but it is not a free for all.

So between end July and today I have lost 7kg so far. Almost a bag of dog food. Lekker hey. 

Then I saw an advert on FB - Coach Potato to 5km. A ten week programme of 3 times a week in which the purpose is, to over that period, get you from being a potato, to being someone who can run 5km. 

Now granted, I did think we would be eased into half running and half walking a km or so on day one. I nearly died when I drove my car on the route afterwards and realised we had done a 30 sec run, 30 sec walk, for a total of 3.8 kms. I am not sure where Couch Potato to 5km in 10 weeks came from but I have full faith in the very patient, super nice and encouraging young man who is our taskmaster, encourager and motivator. When he says 4, 3, 2, 1 to indicate we must swop between running and walking or vice versa, I think we sometimes want to punch him in the throat. However as a group we love him. Today I found that the timing was going very well for me. 

How did my body react? Well. The first morning after running, when I stood up I seemed to have frozen from the hips down. I shuffled my feet along and found sitting down and standing up awful. My lower back felt if I had been passing bags of cement around all day. Wednesday oiled up the limbs again but on Thursday my quads (I have quads I discovered), seem to have seized. More pain. Friday we were into a routine that allowed us even running and walking periods, but my knee seems to have gone on strike as in "what the hell are you doing, thudding down on us 3 days a week". Seems my hamstrings are unhappy. Today we did 45s run and 30s walk, stretching ourselves. My knee is still not happy, but hey. I do the whole route every time. I have not slacked off, cut it short, walked non stop or died. I only have to compete with myself. And if that means I am at the back all the time, so be it. Today was my easiest day so far. 

Just a note - I now put on a latex glove before I slather on all that Deep Heat as instructed by Mikhail. Why? Because I obviously should have washed that hand a lot better before I touched my face or went to the loo. Enough said. 

Onwards and upwards. I remind myself that it can never again be last Monday. My first day to run has come and gone. 

till next time

c'est la vie 

 

Sunday.The Intruder Day.

 On Sunday I returned from 3 weeks with my gorgeous family in Pretoria. I was already sad that I had to leave them all, irritated by being inconvenienced by 6 people who delayed the flight for an hour while we sweltered in the plane on the tarmac and wanting to get home for the double header of F1 at 3pm and Liverpool at 5pm. That was the plan. 

Immediately after the game ended, as we as diehard Liverpool fans waited for the fanfare and speeches of Klopp leaving, we heard an enormous thud outside followed by a chaotic reaction from dogs. Racing to the deck leading from our bedroom and the lounge, we saw a guy in our yard, our neighbour yelling to us and waving a torch and security reaction cars screeching into street, all at once.  Intruder / Perpetrator / Robber / House Invasion man, had got onto their roof.  When she pushed the panic button, he ran from security and sadly chose the worst direction, falling off the 2nd floor of their house, into our yard.  That injured him badly. In the next bad choice, he decided to go over the steps wall outside our kitchen, without realising that it led to the level below.  Again a big fall, smashing a little braai in the landing.  By now he must have been adrenaline fuelled as he was badly injured and bleeding profusely.  Our neighbour screamed that he was under our deck running towards our front door.  Just before he got there he decided climbing onto the deck (to perhaps hide in house) was an option, running smack into Eugene and I, me then yelling to the 4 security guys way down below, who additionally arrived, to please jump our gate and help, as Eugene hung onto the guy (not wanting him to climb onto deck, but also not wanting him to fall back 2 metres onto cement stairs) and hanging onto our Malinois dog, who by their nature, protect at all costs.  Being my husband he did not want the dog to attack the guy.  I think it fortuitous that the guy did not have me holding the dog, because I wouldn’t have held the dog back.  There was no way to know if intruder was armed.  

It took the initial 3 buff security guys a helluva struggle to get intruder to let go as he had now wrapped his arms and legs around the balcony railings.  Eventually, cuffed and lying on our deck, things hotted up - 6 security guys plus 4 SAP (this is why we live in the WC, things get done), searching him, searching the 2 yards for an accomplice or weapon.  They then suddenly thought he had died before the paramedics got there.  What followed appeared to be a resuscitation as they rushed in, a beeping heart machine, our 5 dogs going mad, a deck so full of people it looked like a party and a street filled with a multitude of colours of flashing lights.  

When they eventually all left, an SAP related trauma counsellor was sent to our house at 11pm to speak to us. He reminded us that irrespective of the injuries, the man had made a choice to enter the initial property. 

And then the bad part - me hosing down the deck to rid it of the blood, also on the railing and the wall below.  Hubby on the other level, hosing down the bricks where he fell, the railing he had touched.  This, this was the trauma.  We had been adrenaline fuelled as well.  Shouting for help, looking at the intruder, controlling the dogs, letting more and more people in the front door, showing people where they could wash blood off their hands, listening to the heart machine. As far as I have been able to ascertain, he did not survive the next 48 hours.

The deck is my place.  I pray there in the morning.  I meditate there with my first coffee. We watch every sunset and take photos. We revel in the sea in front of us. It has always been the highlight of our home.  The next day we were both shell shocked, at how differently it could have ended if he had been armed when he climbed onto deck, of seeing him lying there, every time we looked at the deck.  

Herein lay the mental fight though. The next day I went to walk on the beach (I love to be in the water - winter or summer), so I was knee deep in, taking photos as the tide went out.  All I could think about was that the guy, when born, had been born to a happy mother, or a sad mother, or a mother that didn’t want him, or an adopted mother, who knew. But he entered the world in the same way I did, new and crying.  I wondered what had happened to him between then and now. Where had his life gone so wrong. What drug fuelled state had kept him running and moving despite his injuries.  Why was he unarmed and on their roof (the speculation of those in the know is that he was hoping to take a solar panel).  In Gauteng you would have been held up.  Where we stay, in our little area, we don’t hear of armed driveway hijackings, we don’t hear of armed invasions (in some suburbs around us yes, but not like the chaos of our previous Province, Gauteng) Now we have petty opportunistic theft yes.  In our street alone there have been robberies of braais, garden furniture, bicycles and much more.  One lady was held up, but they didn’t hurt her or threaten to do so.  Simply took her TV and bank card and off they went. I could not stop wondering what if …. What if he had not run in the wrong direction and fell two stories ….. what if he was desperate and so the solar panel was an option …… what if the paramedics got there quicker ……. What if what if.  Which is pretty daft hey.  But my husband concurs.  This was a human being. 

Had he been armed, I would have felt differently I think, fight or flight I would have fought back with whatever it took.  However this felt different. 

So be vigilant people. It could have ended very differently. 

I decided yesterday that the deck is my special place.  There is still a stain that I cannot get off it.  But it is my place, and I won’t let his memory taint that for me. 

Till soon 

c’est la vie 

PS for some reason my posts of late 2023 and some of 2024 have disappeared on my profile.  Weird. 

So how is your week going? Yes I wrote this blog a while ago. 

I have tripped going up (yes up, not down the plethora of steps up to our house) - one lekker blue knee

I have gone to the Boks parade in CT with hubby.  We had a fantastic time.  We also returned home with his brand new birthday phone having being taken out of his pocket and me having stuff stolen out of my rugsack, including a fountain pen which my dad gave me just before he died.  Yes I carry it on me, I am one of those unusual people who write with a fountain pen —- lists, notes, anything. Did we not notice the stuff being taken? No, in a mob of tens of thousands of people.  No. 

I have booked some brand new book titles at the library.  Many of these are books of my favourite authors, released after October this year, and in our library care of a grant.  R10 to reserve the book. R380 to buy it at Exclusive Books.  You do the maths. 

I have had some bad news about something huge.  It is pretty catastrophic.  As always the wheel turns.  And when we are finished dealing with this shitshow of a situation, I will try hard not to wish bad fortune on this person. I may have to pray for forgiveness instead.

I have gained 2kg because I am in a bizarre state, like a baby, where I only go to bed after 4am.  Every single day. If I get into bed earlier, I lie there till 4 or 5am. My therapist has now explained to me what has to be done to “reset|” my body clock.  It involves one very tough day. The weight is not due to 4am, it is due to one horrible situation after another this year. Big ones. As my son asks “why do such things happen over and over to good people”.  Please don’t quote to me anything cutesy about life.  Not now. 

I have been given an ASTOUNDING gift by my son - 4 days at the ultra luxury game lodge where he works as a Field Guide / Ranger.  It is luxurious, let me tell you.  Extremely so, and I am getting all the bells and whistles, VIP, amazing everything, courtesy of him. Also I get 2 game drives a day with my awesome, talented and knowledgeable son.  I am counting down the 13 days to go. 

I have been blessed that I am going to Pretoria again in 10 days and will see my sussie and my beautiful chef girl.  Which means I can eat at the restaurant.  And see my bestie for as we call it “a debrief”’ - which is just formal speak for skinner, laughter, food and catching up. I will get to go and sort out dad’s clothes with my sussie, at the house, see Joey who has been so lovely watching it and then we are getting together at dad’s favourite Spur the day before I come home, to celebrate, as a family, his birthday. He and mom loved going there. 

I have won a beautiful clivia in a raffle at the Helderberg Animal Welfare.  One of our beautiful doggies we have, was adopted from them and I will do anything and everything I can to assist them. Perhaps the reason I enjoy helping them is because people treat dogs like rubbish and then they end up there. They cannot speak, and I will help to be a voice for them. 

So those are my “I have” for the week …… what are yours?

Till soon 

c’est la vie xxxx

The Intricacies of being an Heir

 There are things they don't tell you when your parents die. 

There are things you are not prepared for when one parent dies and the other one is still alive.

There are things you are bombarded with when both your parents die in quick succession. 

This blog is not a who should have known what and by whom should it all be known, piece.  This is a "hello everyone know what is coming your way and ensure you have your ducks in a row for your beneficiaries and heirs one day".  Obviously tiny estate, tiny problems.  Big estate, big problems.  However the paperwork stays the same. When I say heirs, I mean the main ones responsible for supplying info and packing up.  In the natural flow of things this would be the children of the deceased. If there are no children, make sure you have tasked someone with this. Obviously this often does not apply to all heirs. 

My dad handled all the affairs, both financial and other, in their marriage. He paid the accounts, he managed what money was invested where, he made the financial decisions, he filed every document from the dog wash slip to the statement of his investments and he was the carrier of all information. This was both a blessing and a curse. You don't have to tell the heirs the value of every investment and policy, but the info they will have to be handing over, cannot be a secret. 

As mom passed first this year, we would naturally have looked to dad to lead us in the monumental amount of documentation and information needed by the Attorney handling the Estate. He would have been there to help us pack up and share / distribute / take mom's beautiful things. Furniture, belongings and 80% of the house, would go on as normal and stay. However as dad was very ill when mom passed, we didn't have this guidance.  When he was home for 2 months from hospital, before he returned there, dad was not always able to have discussions about serious matters with us, or he neglected to have them with both of us, which led to an unnecessary confusion now, of things that could have been prepared before. Dad then passed two months later and my sister and I were dumped head first into what we will call (cue Jaws music), The Estate. There should be no surprises for your children / heirs.

Now dad had / has a very savvy Financial Advisor that had kept dad, and my sister, per dad's instructions, up to date on all vital things. Unfortunately dad and mom's will was not drawn up with an Attorney (I have subsequently learnt why this is unusual), which would have meant that all documents viz Antenuptial Contracts, Title Deeds etc, would have been lodged with the will at the Attorney in a Fire Proof safe (also learnt this from an Attorney). Be warned about this. Their wills are completely legal etc etc but the paperwork is annoying for those left behind, when not at an Attorney. 

A fantastic law firm was appointed then to deal with the Estate. This has created 293472039 emails between us as we bat our way through the paperwork. 

1. You have to supply to the Attorney, the name of every single bank account held at which bank. The name of every account held anywhere, including municipal accounts, levies, garden services and all other.  You must be able to supply the account numbers.  Very often you have to supply a copy of the last statement. They too will check for those you may have missed. 
2. The above means that either you must put the last statement in a file each month, or your children must have access to your email account to get to this information. A suggestion is that you place a list of all these institutions and your account numbers, in what I will refer to as The File. 
3. Attorneys will then get the amounts due on these accounts and once the Letter of Executorship is received, close them all.  Be prepared for the closing of all accounts, especially bank accounts. 
4. It is advisable that you have your bank login details somewhere secure for heirs to access one day so that they can at least see what is what when you have passed. 
5. You have to supply the ORIGINAL marriage certificate and the ORIGINAL Antenuptial Contract. Don't try and buck the system with a photocopy.
6. You also have to supply the ORIGINAL Title Deeds of paid up properties. If you cannot supply the original (dad didn't tell us where it is), you will pay R6 500 for each one you have to get from the Deeds office. Remember that this money is coming out of the Estate. It would have been helpful for these to have been in the Attorney's safe. 
7. Ensure that your originals of 5 and 6 are also in The File. If you lost them, get them before you pass away.  Like get them now. 
8. If your family owned Timeshare, this is a whole song and dance. Let the Executor deal with it. 
9. Your families' cars - these can be sold via the Attorney (We Buy Cars seems to be the option of choice) and the money paid into the Estate.  However if an arrangement was made between the deceased and an heir, prior to the death, it must be honoured.  Such an amount as agreed will be deducted from the heir's inheritance. Should they not inherit enough cash to cover the car, that will be interesting. I am told that in a will, a beneficiary cannot be punished for inheriting. 
10. If you have expensive jewellery (or important such as wedding rings etc) and valuables - please decide before the time who will get what. Very often this can be decided in a nice way amongst you and your heirs upfront. This way it can be distributed to them at the time (or earlier) without fighting and everyone has something that was meaningful to them. However if you cannot play nicely and this has not been done, either beat each other, play ching chong chi or put the names in a hat.  Tongue in cheek. 
11. If you own property, or more than one property, have a plan in place. Don't just let them roll into the Estate and leave the heirs to make decisions. One property inherited amongst several can be a shambles as the likelihood that you will have to sell it and split the money, is huge. Difficult if not all heirs want to sell. If you have properties equaling your amount of children, sort out who will get each one. Much easier. And more civil. Thus happiness. If you have a bond on it / them, take this into account when you get your affairs into order. Tell them. Don't surprise heirs. Don't forget things like for example DSTV decoders. If you inherit a house and want to continue with the service, you have to arrange for the decoder to be moved to your name and billed to you. These little things - WIFI, decoders, mobile accounts etc, can be overlooked. 
12. A have a friend whose divorced mom owned two weapons. She didn't licence them on expiry each time. Now she has passed away and this has become her daughter's problem. Licensed weapons can be sold and the money put into the Estate. Unlicensed weapons have to be handed in to the SAP to be destroyed. This fell to her to do with the paperwork supplied by the Attorney. 
13. Nothing is fast. Policies pay out quite quickly depending on who they are with. Property is a long process. Wrapping up of an Estate is a long process. In the interim, the heir apparent becomes liable for expenses on that property, so keep them to municipal accounts, levies, garden etc so that his can be submitted to The Estate. Should there be urgent maintenance e.g. a major electrical fault or leak or such, ditto.  However if you decide to paint a wall or fix a broken thing like a cupboard, that is already for your own account. Ensure your heirs understand this concept. It is quite a surprise when the first month's bills roll in.  Should you rent out the property, you need to notify the Executor. Such an income is then included in the Income and Expense account submitted to them. 
14. Importantly you need to remember that if you have a bond on your house, owe on your cars etc, the amounts after these being sold may be less than what you owe.  This could deplete any other money in your Estate. Make provision for this. 
15. Have. A. Will.

So this is roughly what you are facing. Along with the initial arrangements of undertakers, a funeral and all that goes with it, packing up, mourning, comforting others. It is all encompassing. Save your kids / heirs from the shock. 

Start The File. 

till soon

c'est la vie xxx

Number 3

 

She carried the swimming costumes towards the changing rooms with a determination she did not feel.  Clasping them against her body in case anyone saw her and assumed she was going to go out in public with one of those on.  “Three items” she muttered to the change room assistant, and clasping her large plastic “3” she scuttled into the last cubicle, before she changed her mind.

It was the taking off of all your clothes that was the most irritating to her.  The three costumes were now lined up on hangers against the wall, in order of preference.  Not necessarily sorted by colour, but rather by “first impressions”.  Number three had beautiful bright pink daisies on it – a one piece costume, like the others (she was not trying to scare the children on the beach), it screamed summer, sunshine and seaside.  None of the attention she wanted, but she had been unable to resist bringing it in. She slid into contestant number 1. Perhaps slid is a bit of an exaggeration, it was more of a “trying to put on a wet suit” kind of scenario, but with a bit of tugging and tucking in, she was in it. It was a sedate navy number, low cut around the hips, high cut around the bosom, with thick straps over the shoulders, assisting in lifting the girls.

Swiveling slowly, she observed a dark shadow slowly creeping up the mirror.  She swung around to the curtain, expecting someone to be standing there, only to discover, to her horror, that the dark shadow was her.  Her rather protruding above the rear thigh area, slowly darkening the mirror.  She pulled down the bathing suit in one painful move of shrieking elastic and slapped it back onto the hanger.  Unfortunately, the sight of her now, in merely her panties, was in no way comforting.  Perhaps it was the beige, or the cut, but it was not inspiring. Well she had come this far, she thought, so might as well get completely depressed.  Number 2 stepped up for her turn. A more mottled green colour, this one had crossover straps at the back, reminiscent of a school Speedo, but still high up and low down in the necessary places.  Putting on number 2 had brought number 3, with its pink daisies, up to the front.  If only, she thought.

Getting into number 2 was challenging. The crisscross ended up being more criss than cross, and she found every bit of herself oozing out between the bits of strap. Turning to the mirror she saw what can only be described as a round seashell covered in mottled green seaweed and algae.  She looked like an ocean blob. Imagine that alighting from the sea on a hot summer’s day. It left her body as fast as number 1, which had in the meantime slipped off its hanger and was lying on the change room floor in an unwanted heap.

Well, that is that she thought. No need to go any further. Out of the side of her eye she saw the pink daisies, almost daring her to try them on.  What the hell, she thought, I’ll show you. In her heart she wished that one day she would be brave enough to wear such bold colours again, as she had as a young lady in her 20’s, when her love for the beach and sea first started.

She prepared herself for the struggle. It did not arrive. The costume seemed to be of a more stretchy fabric and it slid over her body easily.  She was now severely suspicious. Obviously, there was going to be some other flaw.  Looking up into the mirror, she gasped. Unbelievable. She stared. “Number 3”, she whispered to herself.

Looking back at her from the mirror was a beautiful sight. A young lady, resplendent in a floral costume with the most beautiful daisies. Moderately cut over the hips, not too low and not too high, with a crossover front, which flattered her bosom and went upwards into two acceptably medium width shoulder straps. She smiled and the young lady in the mirror smiled back. The young lady who had from the age of 20, loved the beach and the sea.

She slipped out of the bathing suit and into her age appropriate clothes. After ensuring she had all the costumes, she opened up the curtain and stepping out, glanced back at her reflection. Her bright 85 year old eyes twinkled back at her.

Handing 2 costumes and the number back to the changeroom attendant, she smiled and gaily said “number 3 is coming home with me”. 

The pink daisies smiled. They always chose well.

till soon 

c'est la vie

xxx