I tried to go shopping all by myself.
Choose my own stuff from those supermarket shelves.
I set off early to avoid the ‘push around’.
But the other early people are more pushy, and wear frowns.
I’m wearing shades,
the lights make my head ache.
I look like I’ve had a heavy night on the ale.
Unfortunately, I’m buying cheap beer to kill snails.
The man on the till looks worried – I’m out of breath.
He’s worked here for years and he’s never had a death.
To make things worse, I accuse the woman behind me of nicking my kitchen roll.
She’s got no sense of humour, a morning hunter-gatherer – she’s got no soul.
In the car park, people stare, they must be amazed.
Then turn, embarrassed- I bang my head on my car door – it’ll probably graze.
The death defying feat of unpacking my car.
I only nipped in for a few things, it’s as if I’ve run far.
I’ve spent all my energy; I’m all worn out.
I’ve only bought half of what I went for – I’ll have to do without.