More details have been released for the race and I need a full length wetsuit suitable for caving/coasteering activities. EEK!
So yesterday, I thought that after church, when we popped to Sainsbury to get some bread and milk, I would get a wetsuit.
Sunday Shopping List
- Bread
- milk
- cereal
- razor blades for Ross
- shaving foam for Ross
- Wetsuit
This might seem a bit mad, buying a wetsuit in a supermarket but they sell them so, why not? If only it were that easy. First we needed to find them. I took the logical course of action and went to the swimming costume bit of the ladies clothes department and guess what?...no wetsuits. Now as I know that this shop sells them, I was a bit flummoxed. My son, with 12 year old logic, suggested I try the sports aisle which I did but to no avail. So of course, I had to go to default position of all bemused shoppers...when in doubt, ask an assistant.
The assistant told me that the ladies wetsuits are kept in the men's department, with the men's wetsuits. ??!!
I duly went along there and found them. I am a size 12. Sometimes a 10 if it's been a good week without mocchas and muffins. I grabbed the only size 12 there. (And who, by the way, thought it would be a good idea to have the size label sewn onto the outside of the ladies wetsuit. Do the manufacturers not understand the female psyche at all?) For good measure, I took the size 14 down as well.
We have a posh Sainsburys. There is a nice fitting room with an attendant who helps you. I went into the changing cubicle with such hope in my heart. I came out a broken woman.
First of all I had to strip down to my underwear. Sunday being my rest day, I actually had on some nice-ish clothes, not just sports kit or workaday wear. I had even pushed the boat out and put on a skirt. However, off it all came. I stood there in my knickers, contemplating the wetsuit. I have never had one before so I am a wetsuit novice. At first, I did not realise that the zip was covered by a Velcro strap so I had hold of the long string attached to the zip and was yanking it in vain. I eventually worked it out and had the wet suit in a black puddle at my feet, ready to step into.
I inserted my left foot into the leg hole and had to wrestle to get my foot through the opening at the bottom. I got my right foot in with the same amount difficulty. Then, I started to try to pull the suit up my legs. With a lot of hauling, I finally after about 5 minutes, got the knee pads up to my knees. I became aware of some sniggering outside the changing rooms. It was Ross and the shop assistant.
Ross, "How are you doing in there?"
Me, breathlessly, "It's a bit hard to get it up."
Ross, "There is a lot of grunting going on.
Me, "Yes, well, I am struggling to pull it up."
With a lot more grunting, I managed to get the thing half way up my body but the crotch was still by my knees. Then I had a bright idea. I would put my arms in the sleeves, stretch my arms up above my head and in that way, pull the whole thing up and it would be on in a jiffy.
I bent down and forced my arms down the sleeves. "Right you revolting giant elastic band, I have you now," I thought. Cinderella will go to the race, she will have a wetsuit on.
Oh how wrong could I be?
I was folded in half, I tried to stand up and pull the whole suit up at the same time. No go... It was like wrestling with a giant rubber monster. I wriggled and puffed and made some very unladylike sounds which caused more hilarity for Ross and the assistant. Finally I got myself upright and without even attempting to zip it up decided to get Ross's opinion.
"Ross, please can you help me," I emerged from the changing room, red face, flustered and swaddled in a full body tubi-grip. "I can't get the zip done up."
Ross pulled the zip up behind me and I felt my whole life flash before my eyes. It was like being garrotted! The rubber neck band took a strangle hold on my neck and I squawked with terror. "It's too tight. I can't breathe," I complained. "Can I cut the neck line into a V-neck," I naively asked.
"No," replied Ross, as the shop assistant tried to keep a straight face, "That is how it works."
"Well then I have to try on the 14, I feel like I am being squeezed to death. It's so hot and it's too tight , it's claustrophobic. You know I hate having tight things on." (I tend to wear my trousers a size too big so that they don't hug my waist, I loathe tight things around my middle!)
"All right try the other one on." said Ross, resignedly and unzipped it for me.
So I waddled back into the changing room and tried to remove the wetsuit. It had stuck to my skin. In the few moments that I had it on, I had begun to sweat profusely. I was encased in a neoprene prison with no visible means of escape.
I hauled on the neck line and managed to get my left arm out of the sleeve. The whole thing was making disgusting slurping sounds as it came off. I felt like my arms were being sucked down a powerful vacuum cleaner. This thing did not want to let me go. Eventually I wrangled the beast to the ground and emerged panting and victorious, from the belly of the rubber beast.
Hooray, I was free. Only thing was, I had to try on the size 14. Oh GREAT!
Well, that seemed very easy to slip into. The reason soon became clear, I looked like I was wearing a giant rubber Andy Pandy suit.
I came out of the change room again to get Ross to zip me up. My neck still felt like it was being slowly strangled but at least my body didn't feel like it was being squashed to death.
"That's not going to work," he said.
"Why not?"
"It's too big," he informed me. (It was more than a bit baggy all over)
"Oh but it isn't squeezing me. Maybe I need a size 13, not that they make size 13," I muttered. (The shop assistant's lips were quivering with supressed laughter.)
I disconsolately went back in the changing rooms to take it off. Once re-dressed I came out and handed the suits to the assistant, who had managed to regain her professional impassive expression.
"I don't think I will take either of them, thank you." I told her, trying to reclaim a modicum of dignity.
We got the bread and went home, sans wetsuit.
No comments:
Post a Comment