After driving about for two hours yesterday afternoon, in an attempt to buy the wife a decent waterproof coat, at the right price, for her birthday, which is today, and failing miserably, I decided to nip out this morning, get her a bunch of flowers and some chocs to make up for her not having a present from me this morning.
Morrison's was full of wankers and I got in the wrong queue. Eventually I got out and realised that I also had to buy a cucumber, but figured I'd get one from the Co-op later. Fast forward 4 hours and we're on our way back from a woody dog walk and I venture into my local store, pick up a cucumber, felt robbed that it was 95p and went and queued behind a woman with more Muller fruit corners than you could shake the proverbial at and a packet of cut green beans. She proceeded to drop everything, not once, but twice and while this was happening two women, a mother and daughter presumably were in the queue behind me. The older woman tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Do you think I could go in front of you, I only have a loaf to buy?" I looked at her, already growing slightly frustrated at the Fruit Corner woman's incompetence.
"I only have this," I said waving the cucumber at her.
"We're in a hurry." She said. I stood there, dripping after walking in the rain and sleet for an hour and looked at her with a touch of incredulity on my face.
"I'm in a hurry too." I said, not really wishing to be an arse, but slightly gobsmacked that she could ask someone with as many items as herself if she could push in.
"Be a miserable bastard then," she said.
"I beg your pardon?" I said, but before I could say anything else the Asian checkout girl called me over.
"It said 95p on the rack," I said.
"It says £1.05 here." I just stood and looked at her. She realised that I was digging my heels in and said, "George, could you check the price of cucumbers for me." George disappeared and the woman and her daughter were looking highly agitated.
George reappeared, "95p," he said.
"It says £1.05 here," the checkout girl with some kind of stubborn heel digging of her own. I suddenly thought, hang on, she sends someone to check, still doesn't budge and I only had £1 on me.
"Tell you what," I says, "Here's £1, we'll split the difference." I handed her the quid and walked out of the shop with her saying, "I can't do that." She could, she did, she had to, I wasn't coming back.
The Wheels Come Off
All season, Roger and I have had this feeling that Man Citeh would, to quote my good friend Martin Ship, do an impression of a clown's car and the wheels would come off. Seems that it was going to be the fate of Spurs rather than Citeh all along.
Personally, I blame two people for this slump which could see us battle it out for 4th place rather than breeze into a top 3 position. Those people are John Terry and Fabio Capello. If I need to explain to you why then you have no interest in football, so I won't bother.
All credit to my mate One El for his drag stint on Saturday night for a party. He went as Marilyn Monroe and looked a bit like one of the Python crew in drag. Big shout for his guts; I wouldn't have, but I know a few blokes who would have hit on him at a party. Marilyn always shaved her pits though...
Even more credit to my wife, 47 today and still looking like she's in her 30s. Quite a remarkable achievement considering she's married to me!