The long suffering blog of the Impossimal creators...

Click the button to explore our amusing titbits or visit our main site using the links above
find me some juicy titbits

Off My Trolley

‘I know’ said I, ‘Let’s strip the wooden floor and distress stain it to match the new rug and cushions.’

‘Err, ok’ said Jayne cautiously, after all it was 1pm on a Sunday and we had no large sanding tools, no stain, no idea how to distress it and it’s a large 25 square metre area to boot.

Fifteen minutes later we were at a large DIY store perusing wood stains and sanding equipment. For a large industrial floor sander and a corner sander we was looking at around £50-60 to hire, for fifteen pounds more we could buy our own professional heavy duty belt sander that we could keep so in the trolley it went. Next purchase was new skirting boards that we would match to the distressed floor and for that we needed a trolley that was made for carrying lengths of wood.

A massive DIY megastore so you would have thought it would have been easy to find a trolley for wood, you know the type; big tubular metal things that will take large sheets and lengths with ease that career uncontrollably into children and displays. Normally they are near the entrance or in the alley that contains the wood but today for some reason they had all disappeared.

I stood at the front entrance bemused, all that was left was the standard shopping trolley and we already had one of those. I went back inside and down to the wood section, tromping up and down each aisle looking for a suitable trolly. I found two, both being used by members of staff and both rammed full with wood already thwarting any attempt for me to surreptitiously remove the items and trundle one away. I returned back to the entrance via the plumbing department and noticed another suitable trolley, this time holding two toilets and several hundred metres of plastic drainpipe.

Outside a suitable trolley had returned only it had been commandeered by the gardening section and was being trundled away full of fencing and gravel. I threw myself infront of them to block their way and politely asked where I could get one from. ‘Over there’ he said pointing vaguely in the general direction of Europe which I assume meant go find one yourself you irritating little arse, can’t you see I’m pretending to be busy. Following his bored gesture I went over to the trolley points in the car park, still no suitable trolley. Wait! There’s one, I can just see it from here, somebody is returning one to the entrance!

I ran, ran like the wind I did only to watch the trolley be intercepted by another fellow shopper before I could get there.


This was getting silly so I decided to ask a member of staff if the could find one for me. Well, you would have thought I had urinated on their lunch. ‘You want me to get a trolley for you?’ they said followed by an expression that I can only describe as “Are you being serious? Find it yourself fatty.” Reluctantly they accepted the challenge and off they went which left me and Jayne loitering near the entrance. About five minutes later the doors swished open and in came our suitable trolley and the assistant, he handed the trolley to a lady and walked passed me.

‘Err, wasn’t that for me?’ I said

‘Yes, she’s with you, I gave her the trolley.’

‘But she’s not with me, she’s with me!’ I replied pointing to Jayne who then frowned at being called a she.

‘I asked her if she was with a man and she said yes.’

‘You’re joking right? Do you normally ask completely open questions to random strangers? How did you think that was me?’

‘I also asked if he was fat and going bald.’


So if you are looking to waste fifteen minutes of your life and enjoy receiving insults then I would like to recommend DIY stores on a Sunday afternoon. I did eventually find a trolley on my own at exactly the same time as the assistant found it.

‘Here I have found one for you’

‘No you haven’t, I have just found it at the same time!’

‘You’re lucky, we only have five of them’

‘Lucky is when you win the lottery or two chocolate bars drop out of a vending machine instead of one, tracking down a trolley for fifteen minutes like some bloody golden ticket does not make me lucky’ I was going to add ‘young man’ at the end but that would have only made me sound old fashioned and possibly grannyish.

So that was part of my Sunday, there was a way lot more to tell but for now I’ll leave it for another day and rush off to finish the floor.

Have a great trolley laden Monday!

Leave a Reply