‘What?’ I queried.
‘You’ve come the wrong way.’
‘You shouldn’t come this way, you should go around that way.’
Now, there is a white arrow on the road pointing that way. It’s for guidance. This is a supermarket car park we’re talking about, not the approach lane to a motorway. Guidance, get it? I told her not to worry about it and failed to catch the gist of her continued mumbling as I headed into the distance, bound for the beer shelves where there are premium beers to be had cheaper than they are in most places. And my doctor’s appointment was approaching, so that was reason enough to ignore her agitation.
What is it with some people? Give them a bit of guidance and they find the nearest tablet of stone so they can add it to the Ten Commandments. Why are they so desperate to find something to obey? I did wonder whether she’d been either a Nazi or a Confucianist in a previous life, but gave up the speculation once I got into comparing prices and alcohol content.