Elf Blood

So, on Friday after work, I’m in the supermarket minding my own business, when a new line opens at the checkout. I zip in behind somebody else, when I happen to run into an old schoolmate of mine who I’ve not seen in a good couple of years.

Since he’s got less stuff than me and there’s nobody behind me, I let him go first and we have a good ol’ catchup – how’s the family, work, general nerdery – all while I’m loading my shopping cart’s contents onto the conveyer belt.

We’re interrupted, however, when a man leans around me and shoves his face in mine, intoning “Ex-CUSE me, do you MIND?”

Now, I’m a bit put out by this, but I am indeed standing right at the head of the conveyer belt instead of at the side, so I apologise and slide left. The man huffs and puffs and storms up to the conveyer belt – where he discovers that he can’t actually put ANY of his stuff on the belt because, surprise surprise, there’s no room there as I had been loading my own purchases on the belt.

What followed could only be described as an Epic Huff, the likes of which are seen normally in pre-pubescent children. His face a-glow, I genuinely feared he was about to pop a gasket as he spluttered and muttered and uttered curses under his breath. Fortunately for me, by this point Ken, a pleasant and unconfrontational chap, had hurried up his purchase and had skedaddled, bidding me farewell, so I managed to escape to the packing area and away from the unreasonably belligerent man.

There really are some muppets in the world. Retail workers, you have my sympathy!

M.