It had been a routine shopping expedition. I had collected together a basket full of necessary groceries and a few not-quite-so-necessary ones too! As was common in these modern 'super markets' (who's wares were anything and everything) there was a special paying kiosk for those with a basket of goods, as opposed to the large trollies that could carry hundreds of pounds worth of food with ease (that was a lot of money in these days). These basket kiosks generally gave a faster service simply because the customers had fewer groceries. Though I was in no particular hurry, I took a place in the queue for the basket kiosk. I figured that if I didn't waste time in a long shopping queue I still had time to waste on any other obstacle that fell in my path.
There were two units of shoppers before me in the queue. The first was a single being of so little interest to me that I could not say for sure that it wasn't a newfoundland dog walking on it's hind legs and wearing an overcoat. The second unit was more noticeable for it was directly before me in the queue. Now this unit consisted of a man and a woman, they were of similar ages and quite probably were married to one another. I cannot say I had any interest in this couple but my senses (maybe from boredom) liked to constantly absorb my surroundings. So it was that I noticed the woman. She had her back to me, not simply because her business with her husband (I have assumed ther mutual nuptuals) required it but more out of a desire to be rude to me. Further to this she had one hand rested on the conveyor (I have not explained that these pay kiosks feature a conveyor belt upon which the groceries are placed so that they may be paraded before the assistant in attendence who may then enter the relevant prices into the electronic till). There was plenty of room upon the conveyor for me to place my groceries without them being anywhere near her hand, yet some mysterious aura from the women told me that anything within a three mile radius of her hand would encroach upon her personal space.
Having thought for a few minutes about this woman I decided that her own rudeness would allow me to encroach upon her own personal space (which was a little unreasonable in scope) without really being impolite. With my pragmatically adjusted code of conduct in hand I unloaded my goods from my basket onto the conveyor leaving a reasonable space around the womans hand. She turned her head to glare at me and I felt the shadow of death. Mercifully she looked away so soon as not to drain my very soul. I was recovering from perhaps the most frightening experience of my entire life when I noticed that the man was psycho-analysing me! He cast a beedy eye over my groceries: crisps; sausage; pork pie; rice pudding; noodles and luncheon meat. Who was this man. This mans appearance was now my business, I took a good look at him. He was a stinking, tired, yellow skinned, english man. He looked like what the movies tell me a Mexican looks like. He had a moustache stained with old cigar smoke and wore clothes that maybe demanded a licence for ownership. This maggot ridden germ was psycho-analysing me!
I felt as sick as a pig (this is a common phrase and not based on personal observation). I cast my eyes down to rid them of this disgusting sight. I looked up again and then I saw it, they were demons from the stinking depths of Hell! The assistant and other shoppers were frozen as if only I could see the putrid scabs before me. The woman still had her back to me but her head turned one hundred and eighty degrees nice and slow so that I could hear each and every fibre in her neck snap, crackle and pop. Her mouth opened and several vipers lunged forth from her gaping maw. The man looked just as he had before, i was physically sick. Hundreds of willow the wisps flew around my head like some impure ecstacy trip. Black smoke poured from every orifice they had. The smoke formed black pixies with their long tridents. These pixies jumped around stabbing at me with their forks while the couple spewed the most repulsive bile from their mouths.
I simply stood still till the repulsion subsided. Once again I was angry about this creepy illigitimate psycho-analysing me. I formulated a plan in my head which to me was a sparkling example of the power of clear thought. I spat in the mans face and left. I figured that my groceries were left to the ravages of time but the nagging hunger that I experienced for a couple of days was small price to pay for feeling quite so good as I was feeling.
THE END.