I am a girl

 

I am a girl. That statement is a fact, but facts must be supported by evidence; so today, in the interest of factual research, I have gone out of my way to prove that statement with the following incidents:

1. A visit to a DIY store... alone. Yes. As I headed off to B&Q (other quality DIY stores are available - although rapidly disappearing!) I didn't for one minute pause to consider, or even question, the rashness of my actions or the hastiness of my feminine decision. No, I set off in the car to buy some woodchips for the gardener to lay down tomorrow (yes, don't scoff, I have a gardener... With two gardens - one laid with woodchips and one fresh with newly sprung grass - and many episodes of Master Chef, Great British Menu and The Apprentice to catch up on, it is essential for any modern living, on-trend couple to have a gardener!...). Naively, I circumnavigated the store until I found my treasure, grabbed myself a trolley and heaved two ENORMOUS bags of woodchips onto the wooden flatbed. Ta daaaaa... I congratulated myself: Well done Maggie; you are strong, independent, woodchip buying female. Excellent. Now to the till.

This was when I realised that B&Q make trolleys that will only move for men. Yes. Only men. How do I know this? Because there were several other people around me in the store, merrily pushing their trolleys around without a care in the world; all were men. My trolley and I however were firmly grounded where we had begun; it seems in laying my load upon my trolley, I had inadvertently wedged it between the display of woodchips and it's own immovable wheels. We were stuck. I pushed, I pulled, I twisted and heaved... until 'Can I help you there Madam? you seem to be having a few problems'.

Am I ashamed that I let the nice man in the bright orange t-shirt move my trolley for me? No, of course not because I am a modern living, on-trend, independent, garden accessory buying woman who is quite comfortable with a little helping hand every now and then. The nice orange man moved it away from the display and I set off, wobbling dangerously through the store towards the till. It was when I nearly crashed into an oncoming (male) customer, that I was offered the advice (by him) that there is a specific skill required in moving a flatbed trolley ladened with bags of woodchips through a DIY store, and that is to pull it. 'Just mind your ankles' he helpfully advised... as if!... Oooof... Ouch! Hmmmm.


My woodchip buying experience had turned into quite an adventure so it was no surprise, when I reached my car, that the boot (that has not had a problem, that I've failed to get fixed, for the last 6 months) refused to open and I had to haul the ENORMOUS bags of woodchips into the back seats of my 3-door Micra, covering me in wet, red dye and teeny bits of woodchips. However, what was more upsetting was that despite the big wide eyes and helpless expressions I offered several passing males this time there was no offer of help. Anyway, mission accomplised and onto incident...

2. Tesco. Well, not actually Tesco itself (other big branded supermarkets are available) but the discovery, in Tesco supermarket on return to my car, that not only does the boot not open and the passenger seat no longer swing forwards, but I also have a flat tyre. Oh. Flat. Hmmmmmm. Right, well I can sort that out no problem. Pulling into the petrol station, I sprung from my car ready for action. Except I was scuppered by the first hurdle as apparently air costs money in a petrol station and, whereas I was under the impression that a small donation of 20p is enough for the machine to embellish your tyres with air, this particular machine was some kind of super-combo-air-water-supremo machine and required a pound! A whole pound! I know... Now, after being caught out at roadside ticket machines several times in the past few months, I have taken to keeping some cheeky change in my car for just such emergencies... if only I could remember where...

3 minutes later and the machine was happily whirring away! Taking advantage of the extortionately priced water on offer, I filled up the screenwash tank that has been empty for 3 months and it only took me 2 minutes to work out how to open the bonnet! I filled the tyre with air and only had to look at the side of the door twice to know which PSI (look what I've learnt!) to set it at and I even gave a little bit of air to the other tyres, even though they weren't as flat as a pancake!...

Returning home, proud of myself I concluded my scientific investigation with the final incident...

3. I asked Mik to carry the woodchips from the car, into the garden. I didn't attempt it myself... I didn't even consider attempting it myself... I shamelessly, with full pride and dignity, played my helpless female card: 'It's just too heavy for me... thanks...'

So, to summarise, on evaluation of the incidents documented above, which took place within a time period of just 2 hours today, I have can conclude that the following statement is a clear, proven and fully evidenced fact: I am a girl.