I don’t like supermarkets very much; there’s too much emotion and survival issues. The trolleys act as Zimmer frames for the psychiatrically disturbed.
I asked this charming young man who worked there if they had a customer’s toilet. He said they didn’t, but if I asked the cashier she would give me the key to the staff toilet. There were eleven trolleys in front of me at the checkout counter, and they were all piled high, as if people believed a major food shortage was about to occur. Looking at the line, an air of despair wafted over me, but I waited patiently, shuffling from one foot to the other.
Out of the window of the supermarket I could see a distant church clock. It reminded me of the poet, Rupert Brooke’s famous lines:
“Yet stands the clock at ten to three, when will I have the chance to pee?”
One lady completed her mega purchase, and now there were only ten in line. I said to a friend of mine that was there, “Do you think, if I stand absolutely motionless and grin like a fool, that I could pee down my trouser leg without anyone noticing?” We fell over laughing, which made my situation slightly worse.
A few minutes later, I escaped to Pizza Hut across the car park, where the loo was free, vacant, and available. I was forced to buy a GMO, but gluten-free pizza, but it was worth it. Sometimes life is troubling; one has to learn to take the rough with the rough. Stuart Wilde www.stuartwilde.com
Rupert Brooke “The Old Vicarage, Grantchester”
Yet stands the Church clock at ten to three?
And is there honey still for tea?
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