That moment when you arrive clutching one item at a Sainsbury's till with an empty conveyor belt, at the same time as someone with the weekly shop for a family of four, is always a tricky one.
There is no steward's enquiry, you just have to decide amongst yourselves as to who goes first. Luckily, this lady decided that I should. Of course, I offered up a barely heard "Are you sure?" with added non-mouth movement, which would make it hard for her to hear, so she'd have to ask again if she wanted to hear and if she was tired she'd probably not ask me to repeat myself and say that I should definitely go first.
Good. That was sorted. I think she probably felt sorry for me and my lonely bottle of wine. "Thanks so much" I sincerely and audibly announced. "It's OK - I've got a 2 and a 3 year old waiting for me at home so any excuse to stay out..." she said. I appreciated her polite diffusion, especially as I can't imagine her family planning projections were directly proportional to the amount of time she envisaged having to spend time in supermarket queues in order to dodge returning to the offspring involved. I think she had decided that I should be in a hurry to get home and open that wine, seeing as I'd have no children to stay away from. Fine by me.
I then observed the large number of bottles of Lucozade she was buying. My immediate reaction was to say to her that if her kids had a little less sugar, maybe they'd be less of a nightmare and she'd be able to love them a bit more. Anyways, I didn't say that of course. Something in the back of my mind told me to shut up immediately. I am usually really good at thinking before I speak. In fact, at school they said I should speak more because they knew there was a lot of thinking going on.
In this instance, I suddenly had a vision of this kind hearted lady pushing a trolley of Lucozade to a nearby hospital for a sickly relative who wasn't able to chew.
Phew, that was a close one.
There is no steward's enquiry, you just have to decide amongst yourselves as to who goes first. Luckily, this lady decided that I should. Of course, I offered up a barely heard "Are you sure?" with added non-mouth movement, which would make it hard for her to hear, so she'd have to ask again if she wanted to hear and if she was tired she'd probably not ask me to repeat myself and say that I should definitely go first.
Good. That was sorted. I think she probably felt sorry for me and my lonely bottle of wine. "Thanks so much" I sincerely and audibly announced. "It's OK - I've got a 2 and a 3 year old waiting for me at home so any excuse to stay out..." she said. I appreciated her polite diffusion, especially as I can't imagine her family planning projections were directly proportional to the amount of time she envisaged having to spend time in supermarket queues in order to dodge returning to the offspring involved. I think she had decided that I should be in a hurry to get home and open that wine, seeing as I'd have no children to stay away from. Fine by me.
I then observed the large number of bottles of Lucozade she was buying. My immediate reaction was to say to her that if her kids had a little less sugar, maybe they'd be less of a nightmare and she'd be able to love them a bit more. Anyways, I didn't say that of course. Something in the back of my mind told me to shut up immediately. I am usually really good at thinking before I speak. In fact, at school they said I should speak more because they knew there was a lot of thinking going on.
In this instance, I suddenly had a vision of this kind hearted lady pushing a trolley of Lucozade to a nearby hospital for a sickly relative who wasn't able to chew.
Phew, that was a close one.
Me, Samantha & Charlotte the teddy
It made me recall a similar incident last year where I said what I was thinking without first thinking it through (although the circumstances were not really reality so I'm not too disappointed with myself). I was working at the London Fetish Fare, where one encounters all sorts. So I was having a conversation with two gentlemen infantilists - Samantha and Emma - who were telling me how they like to do fashion shows, crafts and make house with their friends and look after Charlotte the teddy bear. They really were going into some detail about it all. Call me old fashioned, but all this paraphilic infantilism was new/s to me, and it was intriguing for sure.
Me and Emma
I had become so immersed in their role-play that my disbelief had already been suspended; goodbye 18 stone HGV drivers in oversized 1980s bridesmaids' dresses, hello Ems and Sammydoll. I couldn't help but notice that Emma was on crutches.
Me: Ahh, what happened to you? Are you poorly because you fell off the swing?
Emma: No, I've got MS.
And we're back in the room.
The End.
Me: Ahh, what happened to you? Are you poorly because you fell off the swing?
Emma: No, I've got MS.
And we're back in the room.
The End.
RSS Feed
