Schuper-market

Morrisons supermarket Alness, Thursday 17th August. Around 5pm. It was very obvious that there was going to be queuing mayhem. Too many customers, not enough till operators. At this point it would have been wise to get on the tannoy and call for reinforcements. But oh-no, the procedure here is to wait another few minutes and then call for help. It's too late for me, I'm well esablished in a queue. The new arrivals at the end of my queue nip in to the lovely fresh checkout. Bah!
A few minutes before this I spotted a newly opening till. I was the only one who spotted this. I couldn't get to it as Clawhammer was in my way, his trolley full of Old Harper. Whispering to Claw "see if that till's opening" he fails to understand. Another whispered instruction has him turning round, "which till?" Arrrrgh. Resisting the urge to scream "THE ONE WITH THE GIRL SITTING AT IT STARTING UP THE TILL AND NO-ONE IN THE QUEUE" I gesture once more. He finally understands. Slowly, painfully he moves round towards it. He is moving so slowly that an incredibly old crippled woman nips in front of him. I stay where I am and feel pleased that he is stuck behind the old bag.
We meet outside. He complains about the old lady holding him up. I complain about him.
The real point of this post is to mention a bad supermarket experience; standing in someone elses smell. The lady in front of me was reeking. It was similar to a cross between a stale towel and pish. Once she had bought her goods (no soap). I occupied the bad-odour space and felt like doing two things but didn't. 1) announcing that it wasn't me that was smelling. 2) asking the retarded till operator to spray the area with air freshner..