I went to the local supermarket.
There were no walkways in between where the cars were parked. The only safe place to walk was in the path of the traffic, this I attempted to do.
As I approached the supermarket entrance, I heard the cheerful dulcet tones of an Essex voice, “look where you are walking you f…… tosser!”
After pausing for a prayer of forgiveness, I decided to follow the man pushing the trolleys back to the, ‘trolley bay.’ This proved to be a bad move because; one of the trolley wheels broke blocking the way ahead and, causing a tailback of cars for some great distance. It was then that I offered to assist the man by removing the offending trolley, this he agreed was a, “good idea mate!’
However, this idea slightly back fired when ‘Ben’ the trolley man said, ‘sorry mate i got to go to have a piss, cos i got a prostate problem!’
While I stood there holding on to the trolleys, a choir of Essex car horns started up attempting to imitate the, Halle’ orchestra conducted by an inebriated, sir John Barbirolli!
By this time a rumour had started about a possible, ‘bomb scare’ and the screams could be heard as far away as the town centre.
By the time the police and the fire services had arrived, Ben was back on the scene directing traffic around a zig zag of quickly arranged trolleys
A loud hailer announced that the ‘bomb scare’ was ‘a hoax’ started by a disgruntled member of, the nudist society with a nasty rash.
Meanwhile all the non- entities of sunshine madness, seemed to be attempting a wail, not unlike a wild cry from the caves of the cherokee.
As order was getting restored I made my way to the supermarket, narrowly avoiding being run over by a car backing out at speed, driven by a fat enemy of the human race.
I only went in to get some bananas.