I’m not going to write about E3. Yeah sorry about that if that’s what you were expecting. I figure everyone else already has so I’m not going to. I will however be writing about the Nintendo conference tomorrow for Resolution. I might even throw in a Kinect piece too sometime this week. Sorry, it won’t be positive but it will be looking at it from a perspective I haven’t seen discussed just yet. Obviously hopefully the Nintendo conference coverage will be positive though!

No, this entry is aimed at a subject closer to my heart. One that’s gradually making me grumpier. Probably to the point that by Saturday night I’ll be bordering on dangerously grumpy. Shame as I’m working Saturday night!

Sunday is Father’s Day. This means everywhere I go I’m feeling a bit kicked while I’m already down. It was gradually sneaking up on me. Seemingly only a matter of days after Easter, the shops started stocking up with cards and chocolate ready for Father’s Day. Fair enough, that’s the curse of capitalism I guess. Not so nice for me or others in my position though!

As the day has inched nearer and nearer, so has the bombarding of advertising for it. The cinema has for the past few weeks shown an advert for Vodafone depicting a woman upset because her partner’s walked out on her, her father coming to her aid like any good father would. The cinema, for fuck’s sake. My escape place! Every day last week I received an email from at least one shop telling me it was Father’s Day and to buy him something. The TV became increasingly cluttered with adverts for presents. One that particularly got to me was for The Best of Glenn Miller on CD. My Dad loved Glenn Miller and big band stuff of all sorts. I don’t even know any other fathers who feel the same, just him! But oh no, that advert still has to be there.

The shops have of course been completely full of Father’s Day things. The amount of times I’ve walked through shopping centres trying not to look at particular shops (card shops and Thornton’s for the most part) then been tricked into looking at a supposedly safe shop (like my beloved games shops) and been caught out…

Today though was very nearly the final straw. I went into a £1 shop. A humble, cheap £1 shop. They sell cheap batteries, it’s very useful. I saw the cards and chocolate, I veered away as usual. That wasn’t enough though.

I got to the counter. It had a display of Father’s Day stuff draped across it. A girl with three inches of make up on and huge hoop earrings took my batteries. Looked at me and said ‘Do you want any of our Father’s Day stuff with that?’…

I’ve never been quite so close to shouting ‘Fuck off’ at anyone in my life. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t to know. I’d have felt terrible if I’d actually said it. But it really was very nearly the final straw. I just said no, paid my money and walked out of the store. Just about holding it together. Fortunately my Mum came over and could clearly tell that I was only just about carrying on after that.

We walked into Asda. Father’s Day signs everywhere. Loudspeaker happily reminding customers ‘Don’t forget to treat your Dad on Father’s Day’.

*sighs*

Blog a Day 165of365: Roll on Monday