Gulp, no I don't

Regular readers of the blog will know how fascinated I am with supermarkets. Of course there is somewhat of a paradox with this intrigue. I don't frequent the Supermarkets very often because of all the people in them, yet it's the people who fascinate me so.

I like observing people's behaviour at the check-outs. A typical shopper seems to me to be very self-conscious about their purchases. Hiding the crappier goods beneath the healthier stuff and so on. While shoppers further back in the queue either try to piece together what kind of person they are or remain respectful and not look too intently at the goods laid out on the little conveyor belt.

I also take great delight in people who struggle to bag up their goods before the check-out lady has scanned it all. There's sometimes genuine panic that spreads across their face. Fucking brilliant. Why do people go to the cinema when they could go to the Co-op and watch people struggle to fit a family sized box of southern fried chicken into a plastic bag with some toilet roll.

I was able to avoid any privacy related shopping faux-pas this evening as the young miss in front of me had such a superb ass and so I focused on it completely instead of her shopping goods.

Now then people, over the years I've taken a lot of antibiotics and a lot of really good pain killers and none of them have made me feel as euphorically whoozy as a 'boiled eggs in a handkerchief' backside wrapped in tight denim.

I feared in fact that my body had released so many endorphins as I trained my eyes on it's firm rounded goodness that my eyes had turned into those sort of spirally eyes that occur in cartoons when someone gets hypnotised.


When it came time for me to pay for my own goods I had to take a good swallow before I was able to tell the check out lady I didn't have a members card elsewise I would have drowned her in my drool.

This is an example of some of the sorts of things that happen in my every day life that make people wish they were me.