Monday, January 09, 2006

I'm a TV kid

Since I last wrote, I've actually been in a better mood. Well, the festive season ending and the return to work put me in a better mood, making me possibly the only person in the history of people working to be happy to return to work after the holidays. But yesterday was the turning point towards true unabated happiness. After a drought of six TV-free months, I bought a TV.

Yes, a TV.


I still haven't recovered from the joy of it all.

Knowing the TV would be heavy and technologically complex, I lured D, a young man I know (who is possibly tiring of me intermittently landing on his sofa for a fix of SkyTV) with the promise of any beverage four pounds or under if he carried it home and then tuned it for me. So, in the miserable rain, D trudged and I positively levitated with the joys of anticipation out to Argos, a chain store unique in the fact that you don't get to fondle, kick and lie on any of the wares like you do at your regular Kmart-style chain store pre-purchase. Instead, you note numbers down from an in-store catalogue, give the cashier the money, and then wait in a queue for your number to be called and goods to be delivered, somewhat like buying Hungarian salami at the Safeway deli. Except the only real similarity is that you get a number. Notably, someone once told me they saw Jarvis Cocker there buying an iron. At Argos. Not the Safeway deli.

So, me and D perused the catalogue, found that the two cheapest televisions were unavailable, so I got the third cheapest, a £69 14” Alba DVD/TV combo, otherwise known as The Entertainment Supercentre. As D lugged the 15-kilogram box through the still-miserable rain, I skipped ahead helpfully shouting commands and requests such as:

“Mind the filthy Dickensian puddle!” and

“Careful of the rabid mangy East End dog poo!” and

“Take your jacket off and put it over the TV box in case the rain seeps through!”

Anyway, D kept complaining about the box being awkward and heavy, so we stopped off in Hoxton Square for his £4-drink-on-me pitstop. After a long couple of hours drinking half-price margaritas, eating chocolate cake and entirely exceeding the £4 allowance I'd decreed, I pilfered a TV guide from one of the communal newspapers, my week's social activities spread across fourteen pages. Later, when the TV was tuned and perched atop my specially purchased coffee table from Ikea, my bedroom was transformed into what I like to call 'The Entertainment Supercentre Superdome'. Angels sang, harps peeled, and there I was watching 'Top of the Pops'.

Later, I mopped the drool from my chin, applied a math-o-mat to my eyeballs to regain their circular shape, and found that D had absconded from my fine company. I couldn't recall if it was during 'Celebrity Big Brother' at 8 or the BBC late news at 10.35.

Possibly, I'll never leave The Entertaiment Supercentre Superdome ever again.


At 1:31 PM, Anonymous shauna said...

dickensian puddle... that's gold :)

i have to say in many ways the telly is so much better over here than oz. especially if you were to go back to argos and purchase one of those set-top boxes for £25 or so which gives you the Freeview Digital channels... BBC3, BBC4, E4, More4... Men and Motors. OH it's a worthwhile investment. If you never want to have a social life :-)

(PS happy new year, hope you got my email!)

At 1:35 PM, Anonymous shauna said...

(just realised i said HNY on your last entry too. bloody hell, i am overdoing the HNY's this year!)

At 4:57 PM, Blogger M-m-m-m-m-m-m-Momo said...

I'm thinking about that set-top box, Shauny baby. I got your email - I'm writing a rivetting response to you tomorrow!


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