Tonight's photo: Spoonbills in the Royal Botanical Gardens I sometimes describe myself as a "people watcher," (a little like Woody Allen in a scene in Annie Hall, except these days Annie Hall would irritate the crap out of me!) and for that reason, I love going to my local supermarket.
The energy, atmosphere and people, change according to the time and day of the week. In the morning you have old men standing outside while their wives shop inside. Not a word is exchanged between the assorted hubbies, but you can tell they share a camaraderie. They have the same resigned expressions on their faces as the dogs that are tied up outside.
Late Saturday afternoon, is what I call "Partner Training Day." It is then that you see young women training their male partners in the art of shopping.
The men adopt one of two roles. Either shuffling three steps behind, hand in pockets, trying to look at ease with the environment, or pushing the trolley while his partner walks in front armed with a "list".
If there is one thing guaranteed to send a shiver down the spine of any male, it's a woman in a supermarket armed with a "list." Thoughts of traipsing around with mum when you would rather be playing footie come back to haunt you - and you realise you are trapped in a cycle. There is no escape until every item in that list has been crossed off.
A couple of months back I even heard one young woman say, "no point in sulking, we can't go until we are finished." I looked up expecting to see a young lad in short trousers holding her hand. Instead, he was about 6 foot tall and built like a brick outhouse.
If the male trainee is pushing the trolley, the female trainer will often send him out on solo missions.
"You go and get some toilet paper while I go to the frozen stuff"
"Where is it?"
"Aisle 6, about half way down."
"Where's aisle 6?"
What she doesn't tell him is that there are many different varieties of toilet paper - and off course, he has no idea which one they "normally get." It is the shopping equivalent of Russian roulette and the words, "oh fuck" quietly pass his lips as he surveys the multitude of choices.
He picks something that "looks familiar" and meets her by the "frozen stuff," (once he has found it and stopped by the aisle where the Tonka toys are displayed). She looks at the trolley.
"Why did you get that brand?
There is never a right answer to that question!
One of the most delightful experiences I encountered in a supermarket was a dad and his young daughter. Although she was only about 11 years old, she knew her stuff. What I particularly liked was the father. Despite her age, he had the utmost trust in her ability - and so did I!
There was no "pulling rank" or hint of him being patronising.
Like with so many things in life age was irrelevant - it was ability that counted - and he knew it.
Wherever you may be - be safe!
