Orna Mulcahy on people we all know.
The thrill of finding herself virtually alone in the fruit and vegetable section allows Maireád to browse as long as she likes between the pineapples and the melons, hefting this one, prodding that one at the base, while whispering along to the Pogues' Fairytale of New York that's drifting out from on high, before finally deciding that maybe it's figs she should be buying after all.
Plenty of time to make up her mind as it's only 1 a.m. and Dunnes is open all night long! OK, so there are loads more shopping days to Christmas, but Maireád has decided to get the Big Shop in now, because what with work and lunches and drinks, and school plays and present-wrapping and renewing her car insurance, she's not going to have a moment in the next two weeks to shop. And it's actually very nice, drifting up and down the empty aisles that are normally crammed with people bashing trolleys, watching the shelves being stacked by interesting-looking men from the new EU countries.
There's something quite racy about being there in the middle of the night, when everyone she knows is home in bed, like being in one of those hip indie movies. Everything looks brighter and bigger and more covetable under these lights, too. Only trouble is her brain thinks that it's in bed because it won't work properly She spends ages reading the backs of packets and trying to crack the three-for-two deals, which she's convinced are a con but can't prove because she can't do the maths. Oh well, buy it anyway, and this is where her reckless streak comes out. She wouldn't dream of letting a triple pack of chocolate homewheat into her trolley under normal circumstances, or such a huge box of Coco Pops, or that haunch of Westphalian ham, or those luxury crackers, but what the hell, it's Christmas, and frozen turkeys at half-price. Sure you couldn't not ...
But hold on, is that man over there having a conversation with himself in front of the selection boxes. Oh dear, yes he is. Maireád moves off smartly towards detergents. Christmas is a sad time for many, but you have to avoid the loony toons brigade at this hour of night.
The check-out takes forever because now everyone is moving at a snail's pace, and could she really have spent €250? But she did get a lot of bargains. Heaving it all into the back of the car, she feels a second wind coming on, so it's back inside - still only 2.15 a.m. - for a look at the coats and things. Such a smart fur wrap, no one would know it was Dunnes, and she has always wanted to try on one of those beady cross-over tops, and it fits! By 3 a.m., her circadian rhythm in a spin, Maireád has a whole new boho chic look going on. Next morning she takes one look in the bag and slumps back into bed. It'll all have to go back.