For some reason I’ve become fascinated by the concept of ‘choice’. Well, I know the reason, because of event that occurred last Sunday, but we’ll get to that later. Because we live in a world of almost limitless choices. You want ‘some cheese’, the average supermarket sells 146 varieties. Ok, 130 are all green/black/blue or slimy and you wouldn’t go near them, and 10 are even worse, being the ‘vegan cheeses’, which is a bit like buying a car without wheels. Though probably not as tasty. We google something we want or need or desire and up pop 43,724 options. Way too much choice.

But I’m concerned with the fine line that exists between ‘choice’ and ‘no choice’. F’rinstance…

You turn up at a lovely little cafe on a gorgeous, sunny Sunday morning. And you’ve walked your little socks off (233 steps, but feels much further), so you really ‘deserve’ that iced coffee/pot of tea/croissant/massive-high-fat-full-English-breakfast or whatever… but there’s no table to be had. Despair, despondency, depression, de-caf. Then a table leaves!!! OMG!!! Fantastic, we’ll take that, thank you so much, there is indeed a god. And you’re relieved and grateful and happy as happy can be.

No choice. No consideration as to whether this was a ‘good table’ that became available, no decision to make, no alternatives to consider. There’s a table! Take it!! I’m sooooo happy!!!!

But as we get ‘luckier’ then our happiness becomes more limited. Luckier in that you turn up and there’s 3 free tables. Ah. ‘Where would you like to sit?’ asks the charming Kosovan resident smooth-person. Because last sunday after tennis I was chatting to a few people there when two women arrived to this very experience. Half an hour before, the place was rammed and they’d have been turned away or, worse still, made to sit inside. But due to timing, they had a choice of 3 tables. All of which were in the sunshine and next to the park. They went to all three. Checked out the ‘environs’, the view, the table, sat down, got up, repeated, then started again. Unbelievable. ISS’A FUCKING TABLE, NEXT TO ANOTHER ONE, NEXT TO ANOTHER ONE, ALL THE FUCKING SAME!!!! But I didn’t say a word. Instead I started to think about choice and about dissonance. Of the cognitive variety. When we get very uncomfortable if we may have made the wrong choice. When ‘his’ burger looks better than my rack of lamb. When its great here in the pub but would the movie have been a preferable choice? Or whether this table that I’ve picked is in fact as good as the one I just rejected.

The human condition is a strange one.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx