Shopping completed, almost;
The final hurdle left,
To run the gauntlet of the checkout.
Which member of staff will I have today?
I look for the shortest queue
And hope the till person is one I know,
And one with whom conversation is good;
Or non- existent.
The one today is the talker.
We start with the good mornings
And how are yous, and then she is off;
Talking nineteen to the dozen!
I try to get an edgeways
To get a word in, but no,
The gaps just aren’t there
For me to utter even one syllable.
I just pack my shopping
Trying to look interested
Out of politeness, what’s the point?
She’s not looking, she is in her own world.
The one I like is the young lady
Who greets me with the brightest of smiles.
We chat while the shopping
Passes before me and into the bags.
I know she has a young one
Whom she obviously adores;
The smile is greater when she talks
Of her child.
There is the one who talks of birds,
She feeds the birds in her garden;
But is amazed at how many sultanas I buy
To feed those in mine.
The best one of all was a man
Who I sought out week after week;
We would talk of many things;
And came to know each other well.
A five minute conversation
Which seemed to continue each week
Without interruption, but was interspersed;
With seven day gaps.
Then comes the pain!
The shopping in the bags are in the trolley,
Ready to wheel to the car;
But they won’t let me go until I have paid!