I hate shopping at the best of times but when it comes to the January sales, for me it's seems a hundred times worse.

 

And it's bad enough shopping for your own items, but it's twice as bad when you go with someone else and shop for things they are looking for too.

My good friend Mae suggested we head to one of these designer outlet villages.

"It'll be quieter than Glasgow city centre," Mae assured me.

"And we should get some real bargains."

Unconvinced, I reluctantly agreed to go sales shopping with Mae, who is as indecisive as me at the best of times never mind when she has no clue what she is shopping for.

However, after queuing for what seemed like ages to get into the multi-storey car park, we finally parked up and entered the bustling shopping centre.

"Do you fancy a coffee?" Mae asked.

"For goodness sake," I nipped back.

"We haven't even been in one shop yet."

And, before I knew it, I was crammed into a seat with a cup of tea when Mae suddenly started chatting to two American ladies next to us who were laden with bags full of sales shopping.

"My goodness, you two have certainly been busy," Mae said.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Rhonda and this is Tammy. And we ain't finished yet."

"No?" I said gesturing towards the piles of bags. "You must have spent a fortune."

"Yep," smiled Tammy. "But we've also returned lots of items we got for Christmas."

And this started a whole conversation about what to do with unwanted Christmas gifts.

"We've a saying in Kansas," added Tammy.

"Return, repurpose and re-gift."

I was rather bemused.

"I get the first one, but how do you repurpose or re-gift your unwanted Christmas presents?"

"Weeelll," drawled Rhonda. "If you can't return it, you might as well repurpose it by using it for something completely different to what you were given it for."

We had no clue as to what she was rattling on about.

"Eh?" Mae asked, chuckling.

"And, if that isn't an option, then you re-gift your item by giving it to someone else."

"Oh my, that's a new concept."

"Not really," laughed Mae. "My wee granny used to re-wrap presents we gave her and give them back to us all the time."

"Yeh. That's right," added Rhonda. "Anyway, good luck with your shopping ladies. We gotta go."

And we bade them farewell.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" I dared to ask my shopping buddy Mae.

"Not really," she replied. "But I'm sure the right item will jump right out at me whenever I see it." Mae was sounding very positive.

Four hours later, and with aching legs and a no will to go any further, I sighed: "Is there anything you've seen today that you like?"

"Oh, yes, if we could just go back to the first shop we were in I might buy that lovely sequinned top I fancied."

"Seriously?" I could have cried. "All the way back to the other side of the shopping centre?"

"And what's the point because, if I can remember that far back," I added sarcastically, "I thought it was damaged."

"There were only a few sequins missing," she replied

"I know who's missing a few sequins,"I thought to myself.

"But it's in the sale," explained Mae as though I was daft.

"And I know a place in Glasgow where I can get it repaired." Mae continued attempting to justify our trek back through the crowds and the 80 degree heat of the shopping centre.

With my face still tripping me we entered the first shop again and Mae pounced on the sequinned sales top of her dreams.

"How much is it?" I dared to ask.

"It's reduced from £60 to £40."

Mae was delighted. And so was I because it meant I was soon heading home.

The following Sunday I phoned Mae and asked: "How's the new bargain top then?"

"Em well," she sheepishly answered. "I'm not really sure it was a bargain after all."

"How come?"

I was curious as I recalled our tortuous four hour Sunday trek.

"Well, as you know, I paid £40 for it but then it was £18 to get it repaired and I've had two trips on the train into Glasgow to get it mended which cost me £12 so all in all ..."

Bargains, bargains! Never mind Black Friday. This was Black Sunday for Mae.