I'm Not From Round Here
I had a day off work today (more of which later) and spent the day visiting old haunts and elderly relatives, namely my previous town of residence and my Grannie.
My first failed port of call was Tescos. Now I had been told that it was shut for 6 months for refurbishment but this fact had slipped my mind. It had still slipped my mind when I drove up to the boarded up building and gaily tried to drive into the boarded up car park. I do worry about myself sometimes.
“Can I help you dear?” said a man coming towards me.
“Oh, they must have new car park attendants” I thought
“Yes I’m trying to get into Tesco”.
“The store’s closed dear. You’ve got a long wait. We don’t open again for another 6 months.”
“Oh Dear” I said, somewhat embarrassed. “Erm I don’t come from round here so I didn’t know, sorry”
“Don’t worry you’re not the only one who has done the same thing” I’m sure he lied.
I feel that it may have been more truthful to state that not only was I not from round here but I was in fact from the moon. Far more accurate.
My next attempt at finding an open shop was the second hand bookshop, near my old flat, which I used to visit on a regular basis. On approaching, the first thing I noticed was the dog, a real live Jack Russell, sitting in the window of the shop. Showing excellent business sense, he or she wagged his/her tail whenever a customer came into the shop and barked to scare away any other dogs who approached. Obviously other dogs were serious competition to his bookselling business.
The shop itself was, as usual, in wonderful disarray. It is possible that at some time far in the distant past there was a system of books on subject classified shelves, but that had long since vanished and now books were liberally strewn all over the floor in and out of poly bags with the lucky ones finding shelf space wherever there was room. You must be prepared to spend a good couple of hours in the shop, scrabbling among shelves and on the floor, dodging angry spiders undisturbed for years as you search for a hidden gem which in all probability, and with a lot of patience, you will undoubtedly find.
The human equivalent of the Jack Russell was an animated chap behind the counter. As a small digression it was impossible to actually reach the counter as there were so many books on the floor in front of it. On purchasing a book you had to lean over all the books tossing the book you wanted onto the counter, careful not to trip up as you left.
The shopkeeper had either led an interesting life or had pilfered his interesting life out of one of the many books in his shop. It appeared that he was wanted by the CIA, the FBI, MI5 and various other intelligence agencies in relation to shady work which he had done some twenty years ago. I listened intently because some part of me warned that to show disbelief could prove dangerous. I bought a couple of books and made a hasty exit.
Next, it was off to my Grannie’s for lunch. It would appear that whenever I visit my Grannie we have fish and chips, either from the chippie or Tesco’s. Today was the Tescos option brought to us by the second Tesco that the town is “fortunate” enough to have. We always have tons of tomato ketchup on our fish and chips which is great because when mum and dad visit they don’t approve of tomato ketchup so we miss out. Aren’t we just big kids?
We spent the afternoon rambling about the nearby dams and watching the wildlife (swans, pewits, curlews, swifts) and trying to avoid the seagulls who make it their mission to pelt any hapless humans who come under their flightpath.
Then it was hometime. Having loaded up with sucky sweeties to accompany me I set off. My journey was slightly delayed by a tractor which appeared to be doing about 60mph in the field it was in, hurtling over just in time to pull out of the said field in front of my car where of course it slowed down to 10mph all the way home.
And there we must leave it. Holiday and day out over, it’s back to work tomorrow. Could be worse, at least it’s Friday.
My first failed port of call was Tescos. Now I had been told that it was shut for 6 months for refurbishment but this fact had slipped my mind. It had still slipped my mind when I drove up to the boarded up building and gaily tried to drive into the boarded up car park. I do worry about myself sometimes.
“Can I help you dear?” said a man coming towards me.
“Oh, they must have new car park attendants” I thought
“Yes I’m trying to get into Tesco”.
“The store’s closed dear. You’ve got a long wait. We don’t open again for another 6 months.”
“Oh Dear” I said, somewhat embarrassed. “Erm I don’t come from round here so I didn’t know, sorry”
“Don’t worry you’re not the only one who has done the same thing” I’m sure he lied.
I feel that it may have been more truthful to state that not only was I not from round here but I was in fact from the moon. Far more accurate.
My next attempt at finding an open shop was the second hand bookshop, near my old flat, which I used to visit on a regular basis. On approaching, the first thing I noticed was the dog, a real live Jack Russell, sitting in the window of the shop. Showing excellent business sense, he or she wagged his/her tail whenever a customer came into the shop and barked to scare away any other dogs who approached. Obviously other dogs were serious competition to his bookselling business.
The shop itself was, as usual, in wonderful disarray. It is possible that at some time far in the distant past there was a system of books on subject classified shelves, but that had long since vanished and now books were liberally strewn all over the floor in and out of poly bags with the lucky ones finding shelf space wherever there was room. You must be prepared to spend a good couple of hours in the shop, scrabbling among shelves and on the floor, dodging angry spiders undisturbed for years as you search for a hidden gem which in all probability, and with a lot of patience, you will undoubtedly find.
The human equivalent of the Jack Russell was an animated chap behind the counter. As a small digression it was impossible to actually reach the counter as there were so many books on the floor in front of it. On purchasing a book you had to lean over all the books tossing the book you wanted onto the counter, careful not to trip up as you left.
The shopkeeper had either led an interesting life or had pilfered his interesting life out of one of the many books in his shop. It appeared that he was wanted by the CIA, the FBI, MI5 and various other intelligence agencies in relation to shady work which he had done some twenty years ago. I listened intently because some part of me warned that to show disbelief could prove dangerous. I bought a couple of books and made a hasty exit.
Next, it was off to my Grannie’s for lunch. It would appear that whenever I visit my Grannie we have fish and chips, either from the chippie or Tesco’s. Today was the Tescos option brought to us by the second Tesco that the town is “fortunate” enough to have. We always have tons of tomato ketchup on our fish and chips which is great because when mum and dad visit they don’t approve of tomato ketchup so we miss out. Aren’t we just big kids?
We spent the afternoon rambling about the nearby dams and watching the wildlife (swans, pewits, curlews, swifts) and trying to avoid the seagulls who make it their mission to pelt any hapless humans who come under their flightpath.
Then it was hometime. Having loaded up with sucky sweeties to accompany me I set off. My journey was slightly delayed by a tractor which appeared to be doing about 60mph in the field it was in, hurtling over just in time to pull out of the said field in front of my car where of course it slowed down to 10mph all the way home.
And there we must leave it. Holiday and day out over, it’s back to work tomorrow. Could be worse, at least it’s Friday.
