Yesterday I broke a bottle at the supermarket checkout.
Yes I was the tragic idiot that held up, even vanished, the queue behind me. There followed sawdust which, to my mind, drew attention to the whole thing. After all, this wasn't a bottle of anthrax.
On the other hand the wet creeping evidence did nothing positive for my two pack of Andrex other than creating beer flavoured toilet paper. They say most genius inventions are accidental and the USP is evident but the market does not spring immediately to mind.
Then I insisted on paying for the damages by getting the cashier to scan the barcode on the fragments as it was clearly my fault. And he insisted on getting me another bottle in exchange, something I tried to avoid. After all with the length of time it was all taking we were starting to bond and I knew it would be hard to leave when the time came.
Then he told me in all his years of doing the job (he looked at least 19) I was the first person to offer to pay, making me a "very honest" person something he felt obliged to verbalise and proving once and for all that I am a great bloke.
True, it's a pity his ridiculous beard resembled a cyclist's chin strap as I might have found it easier to subscribe to his point of view. But this is 2009 and you get your endorsements where you can.
Come to think of it, the bottle only received the lightest of taps before breaking. Actually I don't think it was my fault.
No. It wasn't. That's right. I see it now.
How can I have been so blind?
I am a victim. Yes, that's what I am. I want a free gift voucher and I'm suing for damages. That's the real British way. well, maybe next time, it feels like a lot of effort and everyone was very sympathetic. They carried my heavy shopping right out to my mother and baby parking space without complaint as I strode ahead clearly in the lead.
The public witnesses around me seemed to appreciate how I tackled the situation. I can see how some might have interpreted the handclap as "slow" but I put it down to the chilly afternoon. Honestly their poor faces were almost purple.
So all parties were very efficient and professional. Yes, a lollipop would have been nice at the end of it all but they said they didn't have any.
In the spirit of coincidence almost exactly the same thing happened 20 seconds later at the till next to mine - there's probably a psychic fault line running through Shield's Road. I am going to call Derek Acorah. I am sure he can find something scary to film in the Hallowe'en aisle.
Meantime bring on the nomination for Morrison's Man of the Month.
Surely if can't be far away.
