A while back, I wrote on the subject of fugly people and discount stores- red ones and otherwise. Nothing has changed, except they descend to a lower plane of hell, come that affliction, SCHOOL HOLIDAY TIME.
My main object in shopping is to get out, in the least amount of time, with everything I need (except my Wa)
As usual, two of the isles were totally blocked by pods of she-mountains, the next isle had a pallet of soft drink parked right in the middle and in the others, a gaggle of the permanently baffled tried to decipher those lists of contents found on the sides of cans. Why they bother is a mystery, as the stuff is all inedible for human consumption. Ah- yes, now I see why it appeals to them!
Grabbing my packet of firelighters (try cutting kindling with one working hand) I made a dash for the checkout, trying to shut out the sound of the dead-eyed bovines lowing to their missing offspring- the ones orbiting the chupa-chups stand.
To find one organic robot passing stuff over the scanner in slow-motion and a queue of old farts out shopping for recreation. All wearing wet wool.
It was horrible!
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