THE Great Singapore Sale can be quite a wild experience.
There are the eagle-eyed fashionistas who pounce on killer buys, the prowling bargain hunters who sniff through racks for good steals and, of course, the occasional catfight among shoppers.
When I was stalking the aisles of Wisma Atria last weekend for yet another designer deal, I noticed an oft-neglected species in the retail jungle.
Now, unlike the other three breeds of shoppers, this one is quiet and mostly dormant.
It has the tendency to loiter at shop entrances with a bored, weary or resigned look and maybe a baby or two in tow.
Some clutch multiple shopping bags which clearly do not belong to them while others clutch their hands together, as if praying that the earth would swallow them up.
I'm talking about the poor husband/boyfriend/male companion variety that gets dragged along by their female counterparts on sale sprees.
To while away the time while their gal pals go in for the kill, they hum, they nap or they work their fingers to the bone on their mobile phones.
They connect with their kindred neighbours with a sheepish grin and shrug of the shoulders before staring back down at the floor or into space.
Talk about being a fish out of water. Isn't the sale season supposed to bring great joy to mankind?
Here's a tip for sale victims: Even if nothing on the racks strikes your fancy, there is ample entertainment in store if you just keep your eyes peeled and ears pricked.
Like this posh customer who turned heads at a boutique that stocked European denim label with her loutish behaviour.
When told she would be charged for alteration services, she shouted: 'Some designer labels don't make me pay for alteration. Why should I pay for it here, especially when your items look like they’re made in China?'
Come to think of it, there is yet another species in the retail wildlife worth devoting a column to: the waspish Queen Bee.
Be scared, be very scared.