Dissapointingly, I have had no camera this weekend which is shame as the party at the Blooms house last night had plenty of material, it was great fun culminating in some horrendous karaoke singing from all and sundry.

Today I decided to do a hearty Sunday roast for the boys, so we stopped at Sainsburys on our way back where I also had to do my two least favourite things, get petrol, and go to the cashpoint. Quite why this such an ordeal I don’t know, but I hate getting petrol it is riddled with obstacles. Do I wait for the hose that is on my side? Or do I go for the gamble and go for the extra long hose option, and reach over the roof of my car and face the humiliation of it not making it’s target?

I did this for the first time the other day and it reached, it was an amazing feeling, I felt really cool and superior to the other mere mortals who couldn’t cope with the pressure of failure. They glared at my heroics with envy. Deep down though I knew my elation was not going to last as I still had to feel the terrible guilt of telling the cashier that I didn’t have a Nectar card. I haven’t had one for ages, but I still shuffled through my credit cards pretending I have one before I apologised profusely for not having one.

With that dealt with it was my next hurdle, shopping in Sainburys!! In aisle one as is the norm I met someone I vaguely knew and I exchanged pleasantries. I then met them again in aisle two and said something like “Huh you can’t find anything in this bloody place”. This despite the fact that I generally can find most things, it is just something that comes out in desperation to say something. I then spent the rest of my shopping trip praying that I didn’t see them again, checking the aisles as I walked as an avoidance tactic. It took me fifteen minutes to buy can of beans once doing this.

Then when I finished shopping with a trolley containing double what I intended, but undoubtedly missing something critical like milk or tea, it was the dreaded decision making time of what checkout till to go to. Have I got less than ten items? No, but I have got a basket, however I didn’t use a scanner (never have). So what was it to be, the snaking line of trolleys or the DREADED SELF CHECK OUT!!!

I opted for the self check out, leaving me with beeds of sweat appearing on my forehead, a correct prediction of impending humiliation. I could almost feel the breath of the experienced shopper behind me. Beep….beep…….beep, not bad so far, and the added bonus of not having to explain my lack of a Nectar card. Beep….beep, ooooh yes still going, my confidence was rising. Then there it was……a red onion beaming up at me from my basket. The fucker knew I was doomed, it knew damn well I hadn’t weighed it and put a sticker on it. Engulfed by panic,I just lobbed it in the bag. I was greeted by a gleeful announcement “Unexpected item in baggage”. As I flailed around like a lost child, the line of people behind me tutting with disdain, an assistant thankfully came to my rescue and showed me what to do, but I wasn’t listening, I was too concerned about how red my ears were. I needed to get out and get out fast.

So off I went my with my ego in tatters, my petrol heroics a distant memory, a bit like a football team who had sensationally won a semi final, before getting thoroughly battered in the final. I then began to think about triviality about it all, how pathetic was I being immasculated by a bit of shopping. Next time I am going for a different strategy.

To the Cashier in the garage.

“No I haven’t got a fucking Nectar card”

To the person in aisle one.

“Sorry no time for boring conversation, let’s just pretend we have never met”

As for the onion situation, I haven’t worked that one out yet………I suppose I just need to remember to weigh the little bastard.