I love people watching, not in the creepy perverted way but by just seeing how the general public behave.

I’m currently sat in the cafe of a supermarket – looking straight forward I can see people, lots of people, going about their days, every person different from the other.

The middle class type, nothing is ever good enough for them, the member of staff says hello and they either don’t respond at all or they force out a hi without a hint of niceness, the contents of their trolley are either completely organic foods because they generally think it makes them a better person or they are filled with every kind of ready meal going. I have nothing against the ready meal, they serve a purpose for people who either don’t know how to cook or those that can’t but the aforementioned middle class person does so because they are just TOO BUSY (of course I’m making an obtuse assumption of class – but for the purpose of this post I’m going to allow myself to do so) and of course, no trolley middle classer would be without their beloved Daily Mail – when I used to work for Marks and Spencer back in 2007, nearly every newspaper that went through my till was a copy of the petulant tabloid.


Oh, next up – the closet alcoholic!

The contents of their trolleys are usually 50% ready meals and 50% wine/beer/vodka, they appear either very cheerful, overly so, as if they are saying “I’m a funny person and therefore you cannot see the booze” whilst slurring their words and having a red complexion of broken veins and alcohol withdrawal sweat beading on their foreheads or the quiet version that NEVER make eye contact and walks away from the till, bottles clanking away in their ‘bags4life’.

Another observation is that of the parent/s with all of the children whilst shopping that plonk their children onto the conveyor belts, not thinking for one minute that the belt could be dangerous, not suitable for riding or covered in raw meat juices from the previous persons leaky shopping – the cashier smiles through the annoyance and talks to the kid/s with all the skills they can muster up to stop themselves saying “GET YOUR FUCKING CHILD OFF OF THE CONVEYOR BELT, THIS ISN’T THE SIMPSONS!”

Anyway…blog over, I have finished my tea!


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