‘Where’s your offensive weapon?’ I asked her.
‘I parked it round the corner so as not to have to keep
pushing it around.’
‘Did you put a ticket on it?’
She cackled. Cackling appears to be her forte. And then she
pushed me in the arm. I declined to be moved, physically or emotionally.
* * *
And do you know what the young man on the checkout said as I
was leaving? The same as he said to the woman in front of me:
‘Have a nice day.’
‘Have a nice day?’
Where do they get them from?
* * *
And the young woman whose proportions I was proposing to
measure was there large as life, just as I was picking up a bottle of White &
Mackay on special offer. I bottled it (the request, that is.) Well, she seems
such a demure young thing. I’ve seen her blush several times at no more
substantial a provocation than being asked whether they have any £1 beers this
week. And I didn’t want to get banned at least, if not arrested.
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