The Debenham’s Card Debacle

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Categories: Things I ♥ more than Sugar

So this was completely my fault.

I was off to watch Billy Oceanwho was at London Palladium tonight and yes, I could have stayed at the Plantation past 4 O’clock but, for what? Instead I decided to pop into Oxford Street. As I’m on a new savings budget (yeah, I’m not really sure what this means but I think it just means avoid Selfridges) I avoid Selfridges and go to Debenham’s instead. Part of this was because I wanted to check out their bikinis and partly because I really felt bad about the brand being in financial trouble. I’d abandoned them for way too long.

Somehow, and don’t ask me how I end up in the shoe section trying on heels that are likely to give me vertigo and stumbling around the place. An African auntie spots me and drags me around the widefit section looking for a size 8 for her because her feet are tired. I don’t know why my face says I’m willing to help but she’s Africa and an Auntie so I can’t say no. I’m facing my own water retention shoe fit struggle so maybe I fell her pain.

Then I decide on the 4 pairs I’m taking home with me (don’t judge) and ask the young Asian guy to get me the other shoe. He tells me that he’ll leave them at the  till then disappears for ages. I go to the till after a last check to make sure I’ve not left anything in the shop which should go home with me but y shoes aren’t there.

The till operator is an older black woman who decides to go hunt him down. I’m slightly concerned at how much glee she has in her eyes as she states that he’s been sulking all day! Huh? She tracks him and my shoes down and then explains that he’s just come back from holiday. I explain I’m just about to go on holiday and she asks me if I want to open an account.

Now this is where I fucked up. Recently the same thing happened at M&S where I got 10% off and a Sparkles Card so I assumed it was the same thing. But then Sister Patricia as we will call her starts asking me how much I earn and shit? For a fucking store card? I know Debenhams are in financial trouble but this seems rather extreme.

She tells me about her grandkids and asks about my holiday. I’m late for a Nandos but she doesn’t have her glasses on so this is going to take a while. I tell her I’m taking myself away for a few days and she fit bumps me. I realise that this is outside of the usual bonding / customer service and B*cky is side eying us hard.

We go through the process and finally she presses a button as I stand there feeling violated by all these questions. YES AUNTIE PATRICIA!! I’m single with no kids and way too much disposable income. Fuck!  Let’s be clear. Patricia doesn’t know how to use her inside voice.

Computer says no and she has to make a call. ‘This happens a lot when you earn too much’, she says pointedly at me. Er…..ok. Next time I’ll lie .

They clear me for my store card and then she leans over and says….’you’ve been approved for £5000!’

So this was a credit card? She says yes, that it’s an account. Me I’m still confused. So it’s not a  store card but no,  Granny Patricia tells me that she clearly said account. Sigh

As I’m preparing to leave she asks me how I’m getting home. Dear god, I don’t have a car to declare on my phone. I tell her I’m off to see Billy Ocean and she starts in on how she loved him. She asks me how much the tickets are and to be honest I’m too embarrassed to tell her so say, it’s the start of the #BikiniBirthday. Ancestor Patricia high fives me and I see her white colleagues looking on in wonder. Whatever, she’s giving me props for living my life. I’m giving her whatever store related points she gets for signing people up to a card they never wanted.

Now I’m going to have to shop a lot at Debenhams. Sigh. Everyone knows I’m more of a John Lewis Lass. But technically it means I didn’t spend any money today, right?

Oh and I also bumped into a tinder date ex but, that’s a whole other story for another time. I have to try on these shoes again and hope the swelling has gone down.

© Chelsea Black 2017


Why friendzoning is bad

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guys friendzoning themselves



I know the title may seem like clickbait but we need to talk about the dangers of friend zoning. Being friends with a person who just wants to bang you at any moment of vulnerability is not the one. There’s an arrogance to being a perpetrator. Like you know better than them that you are their perfect partner even though you aren’t being honest in your intentions? Maybe so but if they’re not seeing it it’s time to exit stage left. Or you think you are owed something for all the time, effort and energy you put in? Transactional much? Be facebook friends and keep it civil but stop pushing your agenda on someone’s life. Rant over

Firstly friendzoning is a two way street. I’m going to assume it’s a man who is more into the woman in this blog but as we know it can work either way. It’s not a game. I don’t advocate making people jealous or faking niceness but I do think you should tell the person how you feel.  A true friendship is about honesty and not using others without their explicit permission.


Learn to say no. You don’t need to have a harem of male friends who fawn over your every life moment and are there for you when the guy you don’t want is with the woman he does. I’m not saying don’t have male friends but stop choosing male friends whom you know fancy you and are just waiting on a chance to fuck. Is it a power trip? Do you enjoy the attention? Might I suggest a pet like a kitten or a puppy? Actually, no not a kitten. It’s a slippery slope from that to non pvc wearing cat woman.

And guys,

Accept her no and move on. Don’t hang about waiting for her to get drunk or cry on your shoulder over the next guy who doesn’t love her then you can slip her some comfort D. She’s not that stupid that she can’t see through your bullshit. She’s just drunk. Or vulnerable. Neither is the start of an amazing love affair. She’s going to resent you in the morning. Pity / begging sex won’t last either.

Statistically I would say that the conversion from friendzone to accidental fuck can be high but to partner? Very low. You’ve spent the first however many weeks/ months/ years not being honest so, how is that a basis for a relationship?

I had a guy friendzone me for 10 months. The problem is that he made me feel that he was soooo close to being ready for a relationship. Turns out he was always ready just, not with me? And there are the bipolar friendzones where it flits between relationship and friendship but they always pull the official, ‘I don’t owe you any emotional responsibility card’ when it suits them. A dangerous breed indeed. Steer clear!

I’m making an anti friendzone stand and need your help. If you are residing in a friendzone then, get out. Just end the friendship. It’s not real anyway. If you are the recipient of the friendzone then, let them go, I beg. There are too few people out there wanting a relationship. Let them go find someone who will love them back. Nobody owes you anything for the time, money, effort you’ve put in. Nobody.

And if you are just into playing games then, well fuck you, stop. It’s so not fun for anyone else .

© Chelsea Black


The Wasteman Resurrection

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Categories: Baking, Misadventures

My Wasteman Carrot Cake Cupcakes

So this is a Baking Diairies and a Wasteman woes of old. When an ex crosses your present path. To recap: It’s 8pm on the last day of the long weekend and I’ve promised Slave Owner cakes. He wants healthy to go with his never decreasing waistline so I’ve done banana bread and carrot cake except, yesterday I had a cooked brekkie and ate some eggs so I’m eggless!

I look online and Waitrose Kings Road is supposed to be open but, bank holiday. If I go to Waitrose I don’t have to faff on the snack front so I can be in and out in like,  5 minutes. A record for me. I sling on my winter coat which never actually gets put away, my sparkly uggs and pop my headphones in as I march up the Kings Road. It’s more of a dance, waddle , march as I’m listening to the new MATM album and fantasisting about scoring a winning goal. Whole other story for another time.

As I pass Bluebird I hear someone call my name like I owe them money so, I keep walking. I also can’t see very well at night so although I can make out a black guy on the other side I have no idea who it is.

Turns out it’s this dude I went on one date with years ago who then got arsey when I didn’t put out and went on about all the money he had spent on a Marco Pierre White meal? This was way before I knew who Marco Pierre White was so, totally wasted on my Nandos level self. Besides the food was heavy and pretentious and left me uncomfortable, as did he. He also lied unnecessarily

He lied about being a banker (he worked in finance) and living in the City (more Bethnal Green) and spoke with a pretentious British accent which belied his 30 odd years in a naija village. Any hoo we weren’t friends. Why was he calling me so hard? I had heavy thoughts on my head like, what time did Waitrose close? Did the winning goal celebration constitute a shirt off moment? How had I left my house without earrings on?

Turns out he needed to see me at that particular moment because he had a new girlfriend and wanted to rub it in. Honestly? She’s cute. He’s punching above his weight. But I didn’t need the smug look of glee as he told me that the reason he hadn’t been around was because she was taking up all his time now. Dude, I haven’t seen you in over a year! Nobody is blowing up your phone wondering where the fuck you are! See earlier heavy subjects weighing my head.

He tells me how he’s trying to get her to move to Shoreditch. I look confused and ask him if he’s moved from his flat in Bethnal Green? He mumbles something about needing to be in a creative space. I mumble in y head about needing to create more wasteman lies. We both smile snark at each other. Why are we doing this again? Oh yes, so he can gloat.

I told them I was in the middle of a baking emergency and needed to get to Waitrose. Cutey pipes in with, ‘Oh, is it open?’ Ok so she’s not that cute. They’re a match . I run off and yes, Waitrose closed at 7pm.

How is this life? And the carrot cake cupcakes don’t like right. Too gloopy, too dark, too sinsister with the cinnamon. Kind of like him. Oh well, I’ll always have banana bread.

© Chelsea Black 2017

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