SATURDAY morning and my daughter Jenna picked me up to go to yet another shop in search of a lamp.

“It’s a small showroom so we shouldn’t be long,” she assured.

We reckoned we would be in and out in minutes. But no.

Entering the narrow doorway of an industrial unit, we had just stepped inside when...

“STOP!”

A loud voice roared, and a big hand was thrust in the air as if we were at a school crossing. Like rabbits in the headlights we stopped in our tracks and froze on the spot.

“How did you get in here?” the assistant seemed puzzled.

“Through the door,” Jenna indicated with her eyes as she didn’t dare move out of line.

“Step back to the door please,” he bellowed like the Wizard of Oz.

In single file we shuffled backwards.

“This is not your fault.”

“Sorry?”

“Someone must have left the door unlocked because you can’t just walk in here.”

I was about to sarcastically congratulate him for his excellent customer service skills and friendly welcome when he barked: “Do you have an appointment?”

“Em... no,” Jenna replied.

“I just want a lamp.”

Shaking his head in disbelief that we had turned up to look at a lamp without an appointment, he added: “Stay there.”

He disappeared into a side office as Jenna swivelled her head around like the lassie in the Exorcist and rolled her eyes. I rolled mine too, quickly realising this visit was not a good idea.

Returning, he faced us and shuffled backwards to keep his distance and stood with a large clipboard and pen.

“You are extremely lucky as the 11:45 appointment has just cancelled.”

Well, we didn’t feel very lucky, but nodded anyway.

“Therefore, you can have the 45-minute slot.”

“45 minutes to look for a lamp?” I muttered under my facemask.

“Name.”

“Jenna...”

“Contact number.”

“07765...”

“Do you have Covid or have symptoms of Covid?”

“No.”

“Does anyone in your household have Covid?

“No.”

“Have you been in contact with anyone who has Covid?”

“No.”

Next minute, he raised the temperature gun and pointed it at Jenna’s forehead.

I could tell this was the first-ever test she was hoping to fail so that we could leave, but...

“36 point 6... so, walk forward, sanitise your hands, put on the protective gloves and stand on that spot and do not move.”

He pointed to the first of many arrows.

It was now my turn to go through the same palaver and finally we were free to look for a lamp.

Or so we thought.

“I will now tell you how to conduct yourself in the showroom.”

“Bloody hell, what now.” I was at the end of my tether.

“You must follow the arrows on the floor which will take you in a circle around the showroom.”

We nodded.

“And should you want to view anything again, you must follow the arrows in a circle until you come to the item again.”

“So, we can’t go back for a look?” Jenna dared to ask.

His beady eyes said it all.

“Even though we are the only two in the showroom?”

“That’s correct.”

But as we took our first step...

“You must NOT sit on any piece of furniture.”

I sighed.

“You must NOT touch any item in the showroom.”

Then he added: “If you touch a price tag, you MUST let me know, and if you sit on a chair, you MUST let me know.”

“OK,” we agreed.

“We’ll give you a shout.”

“No need.” He squinted at the ceiling.

“I will be watching you on CCTV as you wander around the showroom.”

Jenna and I felt like thieves and we hadn’t even stepped inside!

“And, if for any reason you collapse...”

“Eh, collapse?”

“Jeezo this is blinkin’ ridiculous,” I muttered to Jenna who, like me, was wishing we had gone to Ikea, as our commander added: “Do NOT move or come for help.

“Stay stationary and I will come and assist as I will be watching you at all times.”

Finally, we were at the first arrow when Jenna turned around.

“What are we going to do in here for 45 minutes mum?” she whispered, because as soon as we got a swatch of the first price tag, we did almost collapse!

“£100 for that wee lamp?” Jenna poked me in the ribs.

“Jenna, that’s just for the shade and for these prices I’d expect a genie to appear!”

Three times we circled the expensive showroom knowing we were buying hee-haw, when we finally headed to the exit.

However, yet again we were stopped in our tracks.

“You need to sign out ladies.”

“God, you can move more freely in Barlinnie prison.” I couldn’t help myself.

Outside, free at last, Jenna stated the obvious.

“Nightmare, mum, and I still don’t have a lamp.”

And before I could answer...

“Let’s just try online shopping.”