The shopping experience for men.

The shopping experience for men.

Here's the question? Hands up all the men who hate shopping. How many of us actually enjoy the whole experience of shopping in the supermarket? I'm willing to bet that there are some men who would claim to enjoy following their girlfriends or wives around that huge cathedral of commerce. Or maybe they grudgingly offer their help because if they don't they may have to regret the consequences. For men this is very much a no win scenario. If they don't make their contribution to the weekly shop then it could be baked beans on toast for the rest of the week and perhaps a cup of coffee with a biscuit. Men, allegedly, have an allergy to shopping or this could be a myth.

Today my wife and I merrily strolled around our local Asda with a spring in our step. It may well be that the day of the giant corporate supermarket will be here to stay for many a year. In the old days the corner shop, the butcher and baker represented our only opportunity for social small talk if there was nothing on at the cinema or the bingo hall was just out of the question. Mind you we do meet up with each other at family gatherings or converge amiably at summer fetes and visits to the local church or synagogue. But shopping is definitely a place to mingle with other people and even if they are only fleeting encounters we can still feel as though as if we've made a positive connection with the rest of the world.

But a trip to Asda on a Friday lunchtime was, it has to be said, one of the more rewarding experiences I've had since the beginning of the year. It was another day of sleet and drizzly rain but the fact remains that after my recent bout of coughs and colds this was perhaps a blessed relief. Admittedly walking around huge aisles and, inadvertently adding to my wife's rapidly increasing shopping bill could have had the reverse effect. Still it almost felt as if was I making a small contribution to the immediate health and nutrition of our family. So I began to whistle a tune in my head subconsciously and felt infinitely better than was certainly the case a couple of weeks ago.

Asda. it has to be said. a stunning piece of architecture. It's a wonderful tribute to the colour green. The big bold green Asda letters are, quite possibly, a veiled reference to the environment and there is a definite eco friendly feel about the shop. There are no eco warriors outside the supermarket but it does remain a sturdy monument to both the British economy and an accurate gauge of our prosperity. This may or may not be the case but perhaps Napoleon was right when he called us a nation of shopkeepers. Then again a famous English Prime Minister once said that Britain had never had it so good and judging by the number of shoppers in Asda he may have had a point.

All over Asda members of staff on the shop floor, plus a whole knot of managers and supervisors roam freely around the supermarkets, constantly pausing to chat at great length with each other. The sense of community and co-operation is pleasingly apparent. The feeling of goodwill and general sociability perhaps reinforces the point. Asda is a wonderful meeting place for sharing, communicating and catching up with each other. It is a rendezvous for people, a place to feel as if we all belong in the same neighbourhood rather than feeling detached and left out.

And so off  my wife and I set on our pilgrimage around Asda rather like back packers travelling around the world. It was a voyage of discovery that sent a warm glow through us. Outside the supermarket the familiar gaggle of trolleys and baskets jostled neatly with each other while in the car park, a mass of cars got completely soaked. You felt desperately sorry for them. They all seemed to have a sad, weatherbeaten look of grief about them. Still I feel sure they felt much better when the shoppers brought them out of the rain.

Inside Asda itself all was a hive of activity. Baskets and trolleys were indulging in some private game almost deliberately dodging each other, weaving in and out of the aisles  and then slowing down as if unsure where to go next. This is ritualistic behaviour in any shopping expedition and yet it feels as though we've always done it this way.

At the front of Asda a treasure trove of fruit beckon you towards them with a seductive and mouth watering glint in their eyes. Apples, pears, oranges, and bananas fight for your attention, tumbling over each other as consumers grapple eagerly with those tiny bags you have to snap off quite vigorously. There are tomatoes, cabbages, lettuces, carrots, peppers, bright colourful vegetables that look so inviting that it seems a terrible shame to buy them. And yet they were just irresistible, in your face and directly responsible for the decisions that you made.

And then you continue on your fun packed journey around Asda, There are huge stacks of brown bread, white bread, freezers bursting profusely with pizzas, pies, flans, ice-creams, cakes and a breathtaking variety of food and drink. The choice is staggeringly rich and too good to be true. Somehow supermarkets seem to revel in their proud position on the high street and may always feel this way. But the fierce rivalry and competition will perhaps always be there so Asda will have to live with their commercial counterparts regardless of what others may think.

On the ceiling I noticed thick tubes and pipes winding their way almost seamlessly around Asda. Asda is one vast theatre of food, food and excessive indulgence. There are grandiose, state of the art, art deco lights hanging from above and there is electricity wherever you go. Above me, big signs featuring prominently cut- price baked beans, cheese and bread, are clearly and strategically positioned. Everything is a bargain and you'll never find anything as remotely as cheap in Morrisons, Tesco, or Sainsbury's.

And so my wife and I finished our weekly adventure and I have to tell you it wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be. In fact it was a painless operation, I felt as though Britain was at ease with itself and happy to be in the same supermarket as each other. There were no complaints, nobody threw anything at each other and an air of contentment fell over Asda. There was a communal unity, and a personal sense of achievement that sent a surge of elation through me. We'd made our transactions, we'd loaded up our trolleys to bursting point and it was time to head home.

We wheeled our trolleys to the check out points and all of our household goods were kindly passed to us via that tuneful bar code beep that is admittedly very funky and jazzy. So it was that, loaded with a cargo of carrier bags, we made our way to the car park. After a rather uncomfortable January it really felt  good to be up and about. This was really the most exhilarating shopping expedition I've been on for some time and, as a man, I mean that. So come on guys let's hear it for shopping. There's a lot to be said for shopping and I would heartily recommend a trip to Asda on a Friday in February and, perhaps more to the point, every week.