So, this Friday, off I went to Sainsbury's. The cashier at the check-out asked me if I would like help with packing and, as I said I would, began to pack my bags. Half way through, she lost interest (as they often do) and by the time the last few items had been scanned, I was on my own.
Thus it was that the total was announced and I was left to juggle my credit card payment and finish packing simultaneously. Card, retrieved, I moved to the end of the checkout and finished sorting out last lot of shopping, replacing credit card in purse and folding up receipt, whilst also moving trolley out of the way (so I thought) of next shopper. This (foreign) 'gentleman', however, was unimpressed by my efforts to get out of his way and, after glaring at me, suddenly used his trolley to ram mine out of his way.
"If you could just give me a minute..." I said.
"I've given you five minutes," was the reply. "You could see we were waiting."
"Rubbish!" I replied (Deputy Head mode asserting itself automatically.)
"You are rubbish," came the ripost.
"No," I replied, thoroughly nettled by this time, "Actually, you are rubbish!"
By this time, heads were turning and I was almost out through the door, to do battle with the endless queues snaking out of the carpark, hooting at each other in exasperation.
Christmas spirit comes early round these parts.
