Have you ever noticed how much better things look in the shops? There have been numerous times that I’ve unpacked my groceries to discover that the fruit has developed mysterious bruises that I could have sworn were not there earlier. They seem to have appeared as if by magic during the trip home. This would be understandable if I drove like a complete tit and aimed for every pothole in sight, but I don’t*.
In a way, the phenomenon is similar to ‘clothing store syndrome’, where an item that looked so good in the cubical makes you look like a sorry throwback to the heyday of Grunge when you put it on at home.
Whether it’s the lighting, the layout, the muzak or a subtle combination of the three, there is just something about shops that seems to make people (me, at any rate) less observant and less discriminating. During my most recent excursion to the cheese counter, I bought some fine-looking Edam, which inexplicably managed to transmute itself into moon rock** in the short time it took me to get it to my refrigerator.
I have come to the conclusion that you should never, ever date anyone you meet in the supermarket.
* At least, not EVERY pothole
** i.e. it was very green. This joke is never funny if you have to explain it