Just shopping

What a glorious day! While the temperature remains sub-zero, this morning the sky is deepest blue marred only by an occasional contrail.

I was late for the shops this morning, mainly because I was too intrigued watching the sheepdog woman trying to skid her car across the ice outside our house. It was like Dancing on Ice if the dancing was a car sliding and the ice was…well, ice.

So, I was late leaving. You may think a trip to Waitrose to buy a meals worth of food is not generally dependent upon the time. You’d be wrong!

There are two things that need to be considered. Firstly, the general increase in shoppers because it’s a Saturday. This means the supermarket population generally doubles between 10 and 12 in the morning. I like to get in there at 8:30, when it opens. This guarantees it’s just me, a couple of hardy 88 year olds and the odd chap with the tiny hearing dog.

Secondly, and possibly more importantly, it’s the last Saturday before Christmas, meaning Farnham is FULL. All those commuters coming out, pushing strollers and making coo coo noises at children they hope are theirs. The way they act, they can’t see very much of them.

You can always tell which parent stays at home with the kids on these family days. It’s the one remaining aloof and tutting quietly whenever the generally absent parent does something completely stupid. Like blow a straw into the youngest’s face.

But,  I was late!  A queue was spilling out of Starbucks with strollers and shopping trolleys erupting into coffee shop rage.  Generally I stop here first but decided against it.  I entered Waitrose and instantly regretted it.  It was supermarket hell in there.  So many people, so little space.

And, possibly the worst is that these people do not know how to shop in a supermarket!  They leave their trolleys wherever they please, blocking everyone’s access to the butter.  They push in at the deli counter because they are in a rush to get the final scotch egg.  They ask stupid questions like “My wife usually buys the groceries.  Can you tell me where the bread is?” when it’s right beside them.  All this and more.  I couldn’t get out fast enough!

I was lucky in one respect.  My timing was such that I managed to get a spot on a conveyor with only one customer in front of me.  And being manned by one of my favourite check-out ladies.

We often chat about stuff as they have become familar with me – I do shop every day – and each one discusses different things.  One likes opera and hates cooking, another is obsessed with her grandchildren, a third is a very keen walker who hates aprons.  It was the latter who served me this morning.

After a short exchange about the weather, she asked, “When do you break up for Christmas?”  I smiled and answered “About three years ago.”  She chuckled, I paid, I left the increasing crowds.

On the way home I thought about how awful shopping had been when I worked (mixing it up with the Saturday and late night crowds) and how much my opinion of it had changed as a result of NOT working.  I think I just might…enjoy it!  Good grief.