Une scène de la vie quotidienne : shopping in Grenoble

I am walking around the old town, alone with myself. I have time to kill this morning. I soon end up at Decitre, the biggest book shop of Grenoble. A lot of good stuff in there. I must keep in mind my bank account, though, which hasn’t been too well recently. I know I should try and take care of him these days, but...You know what I am talking about don’t you? I presume all of you have experienced that feeling already. Well I don’t consider myself a crazy impulsive shopping addict. I would lie, though, if I said I was a fully reasonable buyer. What’s more I have a weak point: book shops. I, therefore, know I will have to be careful.

Well not an easy business. Because when walking along the alley, the books actually start talking to me.

I hear some of them saying: “I won’t bore you mate!”. Some others, somewhat more pretentious, claim: “I guarantee you that you’ll find me amazing”. Mmh...that’s over-self-confident. Not my type.

I carry on and reach the foreign literature section...and there, wow! I think I have a crush on one of them...I take it in my hands...its skin is so soft, and its smell captivates me, and I am totally absorbed, and when I get it closer he starts whistling to me, very softly : “Babe...you and I... this magic connection...do you feel it? Take me, take me right here, right now, Im gonna make love to you night and day, Im gonna make you drink my words, I’ll caress...” A bit aroused, I lift my eyebrow in bewilderment, and think a while. No, no. I am not a fool. The bastard must be saying those words to any random individual happening to be here.

I turn left and discover the sociology section.

“Hey, H., what’s up?” ask me a red and blue book, “Fancy looking brighter? I can make you an expert in Indian community way of life!”

“And with me your life will change” says another, “when you discover my theory of identity in post-modern society” (Sounds cool...but my first thought, ungloriously, is ‘you’re too fat, bookybook!’ Yeah I know it’s… ahem…but nobody’s perfect eh?)

I pursue my way and hear: “Don’t listen to them H. I am what you’re secretly looking for. I am not pretentious, I am just Entertainment. My only aim is to relax you. You think far too much my girl; you need to take it easy and...”

…and? Bah. I am confused. I start to be weaker and weaker. I don’t know what to think now, I am lost. How to deal with so many temptations?

STOP.

After almost an hour spent in this crazy world where books actually talk – sorry I still can’t believe it! - I sum up the situation: not buying anything, I’ll be frustrated. Buying too much, I’ll regret it, that’s for sure. I have to take a decision. I opt for this little 2 euro cooking book to improve my art, and this nice blue pen I needed. Y ya està. Nothing else. I head to the till and join the queue. Quite happy I won’t crash all my money. Just a little present to treat myself. “Perfect, H.”, I think to myself.

Mmhh...yeah...well...to be honest, no. It’s not perfect. There’s something I feel unsatisfied. I never do “it”, I never even think about doing “it”. I don’t know why it suddenly crosses my mind. But I do get more and more obsessed by “it” right now.

“It”, I mean, stealing. (Shh...)

Well, yeah I must admit I happened to steal towels in hotels, I did make mine diverse valueless goods from my diverse workplaces, I “forgot” to pay bus tickets…But...apart from that...no, I’m a rather good citizen I think. And yet I got stolen so many times in my life…

I got stolen by all my employers – I have never been paid a fair price for selling my illusions- I got stolen by mobile companies, I got stolen by my bank with their hidden charges, I got ripped off so many times… Companies abused the little innocence I have left. They fooled me with their fake promises; they made me buy stuff I didn’t really need. They sold me defective products…

I am getting real angry, I hate this feeling. Trop bonne trop conne. That’s what I am in the end. Oh yeah I’m really pissed off now. But today I won’t be bonne poire. Oh no.

One more client before me in the queue. I have very little time to act. I feel the excitement growing. My heart beats faster. I get the pen in my old jeans’ pocket. Hop. My turn. Typical “Hello-do-you-have-our-fidelity-card?-Need-a-bag?-Yes-no-maybe-thank-you” transaction.
I pay for my book. And leave, with the pen in my pocket. Simply.

And what happens then? Well…

The alarm doesn’t start screaming.
The shop assistant doesn’t shout: “Thiiiiieeeef!”
The security guy doesn’t stop me: “May I check your pocket madam?”
The police don’t come siren on to arrest me and send me to jail.

No, none of this happens. I carry on my promenade, feeling lighter, in a good mood. I have a look at my 2.20 euro blue pen. It definitely looks much nicer than it did in the shop. It’s probably nothing but it made my day.