Minor victory at the supermarket today!
Picture the scene…
…it’s quiet. Just a few shoppers. I’ve popped in for a handful of basics as we are still being sustained by the stocks I bought before Christmas. As I push my trolley around the store, I cross paths a few times with two women, late thirties/ early forties yummy mummy types, you know, fur-lined gilets, long, swingy hair, duck pout lips, steely glint in their eyes. It soon becomes apparent that they are pushy types, too, who appear not like travelling behind other shoppers as they stride up and down the aisles.
I pootle onwards, ticking off my list as I go. No frozen green beans, though. Shop done, I head towards the checkouts. And, I kid you not, (I was in the lead in this particular aisle, not that I was trying, it just happened that way) both yummy mummies quickened their pace and hurtled past me to arrive at the only open checkout before me! Be in no doubt, dear Reader(s), this was a deliberate act of Trolley Aggression. They definitely were NOT going to let age (me) before beauty (them).
Yes, I emitted a little sigh as I took my place third in the queue behind the Princesses of Pushy. But hey - I didn’t have to be anywhere in a hurry, and maybe Les Méres du Yummy were running late for important appointments. You know, like for Botox, lip fillers or the tanning booth. Stuff like that, stuff which is of no interest to me who is growing old both floppily and disgracefully.
However, (and this has NEVER happened to me before) just as YM 2 had unloaded her shopping onto the conveyor belt behind YM 1, the announcement ‘We are opening checkout 4!’ came across the tannoy! Well! I was like an eel slipping through rushes as I swung my trolley effortlessly across to checkout 4 and a cashier arrived immediately to zip through my shopping!
It was with more than a hint of smugness that I paid my bill at the same time as Yummy Mummy 1, leaving Yummy Mummy 2 in our wake!
But it didn’t end there! Oh no, even though I was first out of the trap of checkout 4, YM 1 roared up on the outside from checkout 3 and overtook me, exiting the store a few steps ahead. She charged off to her BMW (of course) which was parked as close to the shop entrance as could be without actually parking inside. I was parked as far away as possible because I like space around my car when I park and I don’t mind walking a bit to a shop entrance because I’m not fussed about getting my hair messed up in poor weather conditions.
At this point, I had decided I wasn’t going to be beaten. With Yummy Mummy 2 now well out of the equation, I wasn’t going to submit to second place, even though ‘First the worst, second the best, third the dirty donkey’ as the saying goes. I knew I had the advantage of a trolley that didn’t have a trolley coin to reclaim, so would gain extra seconds there. Also, I didn’t have as much shopping to unload.
I marched across the car park, unloaded my shopping, marched back with my trolley and abandoned it in the first bay I came to. Then I marched back to my car, all the while keeping an eye on my BMW nemesis who appeared to be struggling with something in her passenger seat. (Small child? Difficult Chihuahua? Spilt fromage frais? Who knows? Who cares?)
And then I was in my car and on my way, exiting the car park as outright winner! As I pulled onto the main road, Yummy Mummy 1 still in her parking space, I allowed myself a little whoop of triumph.
‘You are SO petty,’ I told myself out loud.
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