ELEPHANT WALLPAPER

We went to town today. I had to go to the ophthalmologist and take a couple of shirts back, so we combined it with a few treats and a mooch around the shops.

I am too old for some stores. There’s one in particular that’s gone for that California beach hut vibe: surf boards on the wall, shutters and dark wood, with a backwashed soundtrack of cool new surfy type music. There’s a distinctive smell too - San Diego Febreze, I think I’ll call it.

“Hello,” quivered a person working there. She looked terrified, as though she had heard about people over 40 but had somehow never seen one before. We said hello back, Sammy as confident as ever. She’s cooler than me.

The other thing about these stores is that they’re so dark. The clothes are illuminated (and brightly coloured too actually) but that’s about it. As we were going in I joked that I’d forgotten to bring a torch, and then instantly realised that that kind of humour set me firmly in the ‘dad’ category in a place like that. Sammy laughed. I suppose I don’t care whether anyone else found me funny.

She tried on two shirts. Fair.  It it did mean I was left on my own for a while, standing like a lemon outside the fitting room. Unlike other shops, the fitting rooms all sort of face each other, and there’s no chair, which meant I sort of stood there, uncertain which way to face in the gloom. I picked a wall of elephant-print wallpaper that was attempting to be retro. That’s about the size of it, I thought. Elephants don’t belong in a Californian beach shack either. Looks like we’re all pretending.

Later, the ophthalmologist looked right into my eyes and told me I’m ageing and it’s perfectly normal to need help with close up reading. I guess she would know about these things. I didn’t feel like telling her I’d just been standing in the dark looking at elephant wallpaper in a shop far too young for the likes of me.

“Yep, welcome to the 40s,” she said.

“Thanks,” I replied.