I managed to venture into our local supermarket today. Hurrah (in your face M.E.). Although? I really wish I hadn't. I don't know what is is about them but they never fail to bring out "The Rage" in me.
Actually, I lied. I absolutely know what is about them: the people. Does something happen, at a fundamental level, to their DNA when they step over the threshold? They may be perfectly pleasant, considerate citizens at all other times but, as soon as they set foot in Sainsbury's/ASDA/Tesco etc.., BOOM, they've transmogrified into total utter cretins who's sole existence revolves around bringing certain misery to your shopping experience.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, I give you:
- Hovering metres away from the shelf you're trying to get to, blocking access for everyone else.
- Stopping dead in the middle of an aisle for no apparent reason, so that you're forced to manoeuvre around them, or risk a multi-shopper pile up.
The last one in particular really gets my hackles up. Why, why, why? I understand everyone has to stop and have a little run through their mental shopping list every now and again (Outer Mongolian Yak's milk! I knew I'd forgotten something) , but why do they insist on doing so smack bang in the middle? Is there some sort of magnetic force underfoot rendering them incapable of moving from that exact spot?
Of course, I'm far too British about it and, rather than pointedly and audibly asking them to shift their derrieres, I merely mutter words of contempt under my breath and awkwardly wheel my trolley out of their way.
What's the supermarket equivalent of road-rage? Whatever it is, I get it. By the trolley load. Clearly, there's nothing for it, I'm just going to have to cease shopping in these places altogether, otherwise, one day, I might just snap and be forced to commit murder. With a carton of Outer Mongolian Yak's Milk.
SOCO to Aisle Nine......