Some people a rude.

In Basildon, this is a lie. MOST people are rude. Seeing as I am still waiting for my new job to check to see if I am a criminal or not (cross your fingers for me), I am still doing errands for my Nan. Popping to a supermarket on a weekday is usually one of my pastimes, however I have decided that Monday is clearly the day the general public wake up and think ‘oh today I will act like a wanker’.

Trying to get some bread proved so difficult, I may as well have baked it myself. I don’t know what it was about the particular couple that wanted to be in my pocket that enticed them to want to be so close to me, but maybe I’ll lay off the Stella McCartney perfume on future trips. Said couple also decided to block the whole egg aisle deciding on medium or large.

I’ve always wondered how eggs come out different sizes? is it because the chickens bigger or because the chicken has a bigger vagina?

Anyway after telling Mum we needed to ‘lose that couple before I headbutt them’ I thought I was out of the woods.

Until I got to the till.

Now I’m out, and I’m doing a good deed for my Nan. Obviously me and my Mum go to the same till when we’re together because her having to ask the lady on the tannoy to shout me if I get lost at the age of 25 would probably be a bit cringe.

Seeing as I was doing a good deed, I was a bit peeved to have another mother and daughter combo standing behind me loudly exclaiming that they ‘couldn’t get to the till just yet’ because I was double checking my Nans shopping with my trolley at the end.

FYI standing exclaiming things sarcastically will not get me to move. ASKING me to move will probably do the trick, but standing huffing and puffing and looking at me like I’ve just slapped your child wont get you so far.

It WILL however encourage me to go as slow as possible. Pick up an Asda magazine. Pack VERY carefully. Tell the till lady I’m not fussed how long it takes when my water has no barcode.

During this whole time, the checkout lady, noticing we had cat food, decided to engage in conversation about cats.

So the waters done, the packing’s done, I’ve paid using up every bit of my Nans change I possibly can, and now it’s time to bid farewell and let the increasingly impatient ladies behind me pay for their shopping.

Ohhhhh but wait. I have a picture of my cat on my phone. Let me flick through and find it and show you.

‘Ahh I’d love to see that’

Good. Because I am going to stand here as long as possible and teach those rude bitches behind, that manners, are absolutely free.