I just came back from quite a rather eventful time in my local supermarket. Following today’s martial arts tournament I came to the swift realisation that my fridge was as bare and empty as can be. So braving the rain I ran into the store shortly before it closed. I began by wandering down the magazine isle, I don’t know about you but it just seems that magazines these days are adopting a Nostradamus routine of not only telling us what is happening in the soap operas this week but also the “Latest drama about (Enter Z-List celebrity”. My eyes were eventually brought back to reality by the sound of the alarm informing me that I had ten minutes left.
Rushing around in a state of panic I realised that I was low on toiletries so I decided to run around like a mad shopper stocking up. As I ran into isle I was hit by a plethora of razor blades. So many choices, three blades, razors with Aloe Vera, blades that can simply rip your face to shreds, oh the decisions.
My mind was then invaded by the smell of very strong perfume. Imagining me to see some octogenarian splashing on perfume I turned around to see two small Asian children spraying on some cheap body spray, a girl of early teenage years and a young child of ten or so were spraying on deodorants and then putting them back. I looked at them as if to say “What are you doing?!” but then just looked away, it’s not my job to get involved, where were security when you needed them? But then again it’s hardly anything compared to what I did as a child in supermarkets with my sister.
There was a large man of African origin in the isle who shouted at the children to “Stop what the fuck they were doing”, immediately stopping the children in their tracks.
“There are two adults here, where the fuck are your parents you Paki’s”, he bellowed which instantly got the little boy shaking in his boots.
“Hang on mate”, I replied, “Just calm down a minute, yeah they are kids but don’t raise your voice that loud”, I continued
“These are Pakis, smelly pakis” came his reply
My reply I would not rather put here but let’s just say that it was a rather heated debate arguing about him being to racist and picking on children. We were soon both escorted to the isles where I decided to pay and just leave.
As I left I looked over to the car park to see the two children in the back of a car and then smiling at me, which made me wave politely back, knowing that the euphoria of their ride home would soon be shattered by the fathers realisation of what his children have done and the forthcoming anger would soon bring a wrath of anger on them, or maybe not.
As I was heading back home I was stopped by a rather attractive Polish girl who mentioned that she had witnessed the whole scenario and complemented me on defending the children. She asked me out on a date tomorrow, not sure if I will go as I have a prior arrangement at the Swedish pub for the Eurovision Song Contest.
The irony is I only popped in for some bread.
