“Wait a minute….this stuff isn’t mine !”
Having just said this let’s now back track to the beginning of the story where upon entering the supermarket we did so at the same time as a gentleman who gave me….the fish eye. In someway unbeknownst to me I had obviously offended the man and it was soon apparent he definitely wanted his own back. Aisle after aisle each time I stopped to search or peruse a shelf he would immediately place his cart directly in my way and then walk away…..
“That guy is really hurting your balls” is what Mags whispered pleased with the opportunity to proudly show off her latest acquisition of American slang.
“That’s busting my balls Hon…busting.” I corrected.
Her meaning was spot on however and so I felt it imperative to teach the “ball hurter” a lesson. We began enjoying ourselves by discretely dropping expensive tidbits into his cart. By the time we’d reached the meat freezer I had tired of the game and so pushed his cart down the other end as I headed over to struggle with the beer selection.
I imagine he got the hint as he stayed away from us from there on out and we only caught sight of him again when we found ourselves two or three in line behind at the checkout. We were anxious to see the outcome and delighted that he appeared puzzled as he paid up and then stood watching quizzically as the bagger handled the last of his purchases. This is about when the poor lady in the next checkout lane proclaimed…
“Wait a minute….this stuff isn’t mine.”
As he began his departure with a heavy load he looked directly in my direction as I stood laughingly returning the fish eye.
“Guess he won‘t get to enjoy those tins of salmon after all will he ?” I asked the wife and was delighted with her response of…..
“Probably won’t enjoy those Tampons he bought either .”
