Sunday 3 February 2008

Go on, have a freekin' guess...

It was a surprising warm Christmas Eve in East Grinstead and the constant droning by Christian my lovely co-worker of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas…’, sung completely out of tune and without knowing what the actual twelfth day is, the muppet! It was driving me insane. So using the excuse of “late Christmas shopping” I hastily exited the Tiny Box offices.
Due to me founding and running a recycled packaging company and being featured in the press I thought it a tad hypocritical to not practice what I preach so with a warm cup of cocoa inside me I launched into my quest of completing my entire Christmas shopping, that’s right ENTIRE Christmas shopping without using one single plastic carrier bag!
So off I trotted with my Bag for Life, I still could not get that pesky twelve day’s tune out of my head when I reached my first stop; – Broadleys (a local store in East Grinstead) for a sweatshirt for Dad. I spotted it and in his favourite colour too! I whisked it to the till. Then it happened… As fast as Santa Claus slugs his complimentary, out came the very first (insert dramatic music in your mind here!) plastic bag. With a completely stupid grin on my face knowing that the cashier did not have any idea of the mission I chose to accept, rejected it and proudly (and still smiling stupidly) placed it in my canvas bag.
Next stop – WH Smith for cards and books. And yes as sure as ‘nine ladies dancing’ follows ‘ten lords a-leaping, the next damned plastic bag arrived. My smile was not so wide but I was still looking stupid, as I forgot my flipping PIN number. After attempt number two failed I paid with cash and whispered; ‘No thank-you I have my own’ and promptly positioned my purchases neatly on top of Dads sweatshirt.

McKay’s next for that hideous purple and white polka dotted dressing gown for Mum. I know the department manager, she’s the Mayors wife don’t you know! All of a sudden she was manning the till… and then, like Paul Daniels on acid she produced a paper bag. ‘Hark the Herald Angels!’ I exclaimed. I paid for my purchase, exchanged seasonal pleasantries and then as I hid behind the underwear to spy, the mayors wife whom I exchanged pleasantries with scurried from the till, a young girl took over and as sure as ‘The three French hens would fight with the seven swans a-swimming’- she went back to the old reliable plastic.

On to Boots, for those stocking filler type things that you only seem to find in Boots. I seem to spend a large proportion of any shopping day in a Boots somewhere. It’s kind of like they bombard you with some kind of subliminal message as you meander the High Street that infiltrates your subconscious and tells you that no purchasing or browsing excursion is complete without an obligatory trip to Boots. I love them! But not the three plastic bags they tried to fob me off with. One would have done too. My recycled sack was beginning to look like I had kidnapped Dawn French.

Next Phones4U for my little sister, she had been blatantly hinting about the new Sony Ericsson. It’s as small as a RAZR but as sure as I would hate ‘a partridge in a pear tree’ in my stocking, out came the next large plastic carrier bag. I proudly told them of my tinyboxcompany.com, I bored them with the tale of pleasantries exchanged with the Mayors wife, I breezed over the PIN shambles, I recounted my stupid grin. I mumbled ‘Merry Christmas’ and scuttled out, my sisters new phone peering over the top of my sack.

Next lovely Unwins for my seasonal cheer. A further two plastic bags rejected by me off I went to Woolworths, then Dorothy Perkins.

I cursed Unwins and their free Festive tasting session as I staggered home calculating in my hazy head along the way that I had saved at least 10 plastic bags which have an average life span of 12 minutes (Argus Article: Nov’ 10th 2007) and then take an unfeasible 500 years to biodegrade! Calculate that figure by approximately 40 million of the British population that participate in Christmas shopping and that is 400 million carrier bags given simply for one day of Christmas shopping.
Ps Note for my co-worker Christian... the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me ‘Twelve freekin' Drummers drumming!’
Rachel Watkyn -Tiny Box Company Founder

No comments: