A Canadian gal living in Britain with 3 men and a dog. Wine helps.

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Saturday, February 06, 2010

Not like me...

Yesterday, on the way home from work I decided to nip into the grocery store to pick up a few items as tonight I want to make beef stifado, a yummy delicious greek stew made with garlic, shallots and cinnamon.

The shop was just beginning to get a little crazy as it was after four on a Friday.  I tried not to rush through, as I wanted to make sure I was collecting everything on my list.  The isle containing cheese and dairy was ridiculously crowded with people queing to push their carts through and I was breathing  a sigh of relief that I only had a basket, even though people kept banging into it.

Once I hit the wine aisle I took a few deep breaths as I selected a pinoit grigio (amazingly this isle had hardly anyone in it - strange for a Friday, but apparently people were more interested in food than booze).  It took all the will-power I could muster not to twist open the top of a bottle and take a swig before facing the produce section, which was also jam packed.  Once my basket was finally complete, I headed toward the checkout only to breath a sigh of relief at my good timing:  the cash right in front of me had only one person being checked through, without much on the belt; this was lucky because every other check out was crazy busy. 

As I was nearly there I saw someone rushing for this checkout out of my peripheral vision and hastly speeded up only to get my basket on the belt first.  As I unloaded my stuff I couldn't bring myself to look at the person behind me, but noticed that they only had three items to unload.  Three.  Whilst I had about 15 (mind this was a regular check-out, not one of those with a 10 items or less restriction).  Then I glanced up and realized it was an older man.  One who was smiling at the family behind him and I wanted to crawl under the counter in shame.  Would it really have been so bad to let him in front of me?  But by the time I had noticed all this, my stuff had all been unloaded;   I just chose to wait to be checked through and was not my usual chatty self with the cashier as I was feeling guilty for racing to a checkout to beat an older man.  I just wanted out of there. 

Some of you may not find this such a big deal, but I honestly hate the push and shove society we live in and abhor the thought that I am among those ranks.

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