crisp wars

have just returned from a local shop buying a few bits and pieces, where I bumped into an acquaintance. let’s call her Mrs M. I’m sure we all know people like Mrs M. she is, allegedly, charming, but takes every opportunity to stick a penknife between other people’s metaphorical ribs and jiggle it about a bit. a shop is an ideal location for her, with its opportunities for commenting on what’s in your shopping basket.

anyway, she peered into mine, and actually picked up an item from the top. seriously? since when is it socially ok to physically handle other people’s shopping?

Walkers crisps, dear? Don’t you know Tyrrells are far better for you?”

(translation for non-English readers – potato chips. Walkers = cheap and cheerful, Tyrrells = overpriced/overpackaged.)

my natural irritation at this was suddenly drowned in a flood of glee that crisps were the worst thing in my shopping basket. six months ago she would have had a field day with the bottle of wine on a Tuesday…. “Ooh, are we celebrating?”

and I can’t be too cross with her because otherwise I would never have come across this story typifying Things British People Get Cross About.Β think my favourite line is, “I’m beginning to have my doubts that R S Thomas was much of a crisp man”…. πŸ™‚

happy Tuesday lunchtime!!!

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