I did the food shop tonight – Rock On!
It has been ages since we did a proper food shop, we have both been avoiding it for as long as humanely possible due to our mutual hatred of the activity, but, as we sat down to eat our dinner of cheese omelette made with 3 week old eggs and cheese that I think had seen better days as I cut off the mouldy bits, I realised that enough was enough. So ever the intrepid traveller type I set off in our Monster Truck to purchase some sustenance.
I got myself a trolley and began making my way around the supermarket in a fruitless search for Marmite and Alpen, I like to really immerse myself in a country’s culture you see. Anyway, I made my way round, chucking things into my trolley as I went along, up and down the aisles.
It was hardly noticeable at first.
I worked my way round the shop; visiting the fish counter, then over to the meat counter, then the bread aisle, all the while my trolley getting heavier and harder to push with each aisle I went down, it was at the fruit and veg area that I really started to notice.
No-one else had a trolley
In the whole shop.
They all had those piddling little baskets.
The look of shock on the other shoppers faces as they glanced first to me and then to my bulging unwieldy trolley, clearly told me that they thought I had escaped from the asylum as I struggled to steer my unruly steed.
I kept my head down and kept moving until finally, shopping done, I could head to the checkouts, I headed first to checkout 8, “sorry closing now”, then checkout 3 ” this is my last customer”, until I made it to unsuspecting nice checkout man who made the schoolboy error of catching my eye as I struggled on past. Congratulations checkout 5 you’ve won the prize!
Bless him his face did drain of colour a bit when he saw what he had to deal with but he valiantly soldiered on . . . . and on . . . . and on . . . .
. . . . and on checking item after item through the scanner, it was taking so long I felt I had to say something.
“I hope all my family appreciate all the stuff I am buying them, they’re coming to visit you see” , the unspoken ‘that’s why I have bought enough food to feed a small country’ hung in the air.
His knowing smile and inability to meet my eyes said it all.
What the hell did I say that for?
Why do I feel the need to lie to justify my food shop to the checkout man! Ridiculous.
Really though, is it only the Brits that do a ‘big shop’ (granted mine was ginormous but still . . .)
Am I really so strange?
Actually don’t answer that.