Sunday, November 12, 2006

On Shopping....

I was shopping today. Food shopping. Not my favourite part of the week, and God knows that Saturday morning at Sainsbury's is actually the first circle of Hell. But today was going to be OK because a dear friend had given me some wonderful Latin stuff and this was to be my first hearing. I took a deep breath, plugged in my iPod and started to semi-salsa through the fruit and veg. All was well in the world.

(BTW, the iPod is a fantastic invention for therapists. Plug it in and block out the world, so even if those clients see you in Sainsbury's, you sure as hell don't see them because you are in a club in Havana dancing with a gorgeous Cuban who is only interested in your sexy moves...)

I get to the check out. All is still well with the world. And then the check-out woman starts to talk to me. I smile inanely, but give out very clear signals that I don't want idle chatter. I am good at body language - I am a therapist after all. She ignores what her unconscious mind must definitely be telling her, and continues to chat to me. I tell her I can't hear properly, what with the fact that I have ear-plugs in and all, which usually do pump out loud music in the normal scheme of things. And so she starts to shout. 'OK' I think to myself, 'she really does need to tell me something important' and so I reluctantly, and quite petulantly, probably, remove said ear piece.

"It's busy today, isn't it?"

'Is that it?' I think. I have removed myself from my moment of bliss in Havana so she can state the bleeding obvious and, irritatingly, she appears to expect me to respond.

" It is" I say without further comment, and plug back in. But Havana has gone and I find myself pondering whether she is contractually obliged to make conversation, or whether she just has a compulsion to be friendly to people who don't give a shit.

I return home in a fury which far exceeds the provocation. I tell The Husband, who semi-listens in bemusement.

" It sounds like she was just being friendly" he offers.

My rage turns on him ( though only in my head, of course.) He looks like he knows. "Perhaps you need to go to therapy" he says .......

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