Quack Quack

I am sooooo sick of this weather. When it's not raining, it's still cool and overcast and just plain miserable.

Hello ! It's August. It's supposed to be summer. Where is the flaming global warming then, eh ?
God knows we Brits must've sent enough carbon dioxide into the air to deserve a bit of warming. It's not fair. I've just inspected my carbon footprint and I'd put it up against anyones. So what's going on ?

Even the advertisers have given up. No ads suggesting a glass of cool, ice filled Pepsi on OUR screens. No ads for bbq sets from Argos. No ads encouraging us to 'book early' for the joys of a Butlins seaside holiday at Bognor Regis or Skegness. Mind you, were those holidays ever joyous ?

No, we now get ads for Connect 4 and Kerplunk. Good indoor games. Sales of Playstations and Xboxes have gone through the roof. Parents are tearing their hair out trying to keep the kids occupied inside. Or give up and send them out in the rain to beat up pensioners or stab anyone who looks them in the eye. I think London is running it's own Hoodie Olympics in preparation for 2012 and stabbing is being introduced as a trial event.

One way to ensure we get a gold !!

But I digress................

I went shopping this morning. Two amazing facts in one statement there. I hate shopping and I don't DO mornings. In fact I'm not usually up in time to DO mornings.

Anyway off I tootled to Sainsburys and entered the great insurance claim zone that is their car park. It's amazing how many cars there bear the metalic scars of previous visits. I'm not sure if it's the fact that most supermarket shopping is done by women but you put your no claims bonus on the line every time you go there.

Heyyyyy that's not being chauvanistic. Well not really. Even women admit they can't park for toffee.

Inside it wasn't much better and I can see why most carts have wonky wheels. I was 'hit' on several occasions just getting through the fresh food aisle as, women again, have this habit of seeing what they want and just abandoning their carts while they make a beeline for it.

More worringly though, they don't seem to care if their own little 'Madeline' is left sitting up on the cart while they scramble for the tomatoes or apples even though there are plenty to go around. I don't mean they park the cart near the product and reach down or across to get it. Hell I do that and I have nothing more than a well fingered FMH magazine in my cart.

No, these mums leave the carts mid aisle and often take the chance to gather up a plethera of fruit and veg while on their mini excursion and only return to their carts when they've more cabbages in their arms than a Crackerjack contestant.

Crackerjack !!!!

I guess they know that no one would take a child from a shopping cart in a busy supermarket. They don't earn Nectar points after all !!

I got my basic groceries and got to the checkout. More stress. Yes you've guessed it. The woman ahead of me was of the shocked 'you want me to pay?' genre. Her goods were scanned, she bagged them up and loaded them back into her cart. Then she seemed to realise she had to pay for them and so put her gigantic bag up onto the checkout, dug inside for her purse and after a good rummage, brought it out with all the gusto of a magicians rabbit.

After deciding which colourful credit card she liked the best, she asked how much her bill came to. WHAT ? Does it matter ? Put the pretty card into the machine you muppet !! I'm growing a beard here !!!

(Ok that's not really fair in my case but I was only talking in my head anyway. My sarcasm doesn't have to be truthful in my head.)

Being a man (told you, Kate) I had my card at the ready and was well ahead of the game. No hold ups. No worries. Groceries were bagged and I swiped my card with the announcement of my bill total still on the cashiers lips. Yes I'm that good.

I got to the doors and looked out....and what a shocker.......it was raining. Not just raining. Oh no, this was a deluge of biblical proportions. This was rain to scrape the top coat off my car.

I pushed my cart towards said car hoping it would still be the same colour as when I'd bought it.
Well it wasn't so much pushing it as propelling it like it contained a classic round black bomb with a short fizzing fuse. If Linford Christie had been shopping this morning, I'd have left him standing.

There are few things worse in this life than transfering items from a shopping cart to your car boot when it's pis........chucking it down. Eggs ? Fuck 'em. Bread ? Sod it. 24 yogurts. Get in there you bastards. I slammed the lid boot shut while the cheese slices were still in mid air and hurled the empty cart across and into the collection bay. Did it get there ? Did I care less ?

I dived into the car. It was time to leave. Where were my keys ? WHERE WERE MY KEYS ????!!!!!!!

With rising panic I searched my body and the surrounding area, spraying the passenger seat and dashboard with raindrops. Then it hit me. The cart. I'd placed the keys on the cart 'shelf' when opening the boot lid !! I had to get out and thankfully was able to retrieve them before the next customer picked my cart but by now I was drenched and totally miserable.

I sat in the car for ages, dripping onto the seat with my glasses misted up in that annoying way they do when you really need them the most. I even turned on the car wipers and was mildly surprised when they didn't clear my glasses too. Renaults are useless !

I'm soooooo sick of this weather. And supermarket shopping runs it close.