Returning from work early today enabled me to catch the train which departs London prior to the 15:59 off peak to peak Oyster Card cut off. Call me sad if you will, but I personally believe that the £1.80 saving incurred will allow me to add extra spice to my 'pleasure budget'. As normal on Tuesday evenings I stepped into the Co-op foodstore near the station to pick up some provisions for dinner. I was perusing the chilled cabinet to determine whether I could haggle the price down on a Ginster's Steak Slice when a voice behind me enquired whether I had taken full advantage of the 'buy two sausage rolls and receive a pack of liver sausage for half-price offer' - I looked around and saw a gentleman of aged about forty-three wearing a Co-op uniform at least two sizes too small for him and trying to pull in his huge beer gut. He did, though, have a very kind face and deep brown eyes and I found myself smiling back at him.
He explained that his name was Barry and he'd been working for the Co-op ever since he'd left school at the age of sixteen after he'd set fire to the chemistry lab's fume cupboard and was downgraded from a B to a G grade in GCSE as a result. He'd hankered after working his way up in retail, first of all, a move to Asda, then Sainsbury's and finally, M&S, but he'd been unlucky so far in every interview he'd attended - firstly a rampaging sheep had caused him to trip and break his ankle prior to his Asda interview and after that he'd tried several times more, all with little success.
This little reverie was soon broken when Barry was told via the public address system (not a Tannoy: that's a brand name!) to go to the tills, but he did find the time to ask me whether I was planning to attend Saturday's Fundraising Funday - as I had nothing better to do other than remove dust from the rear of my bedside table, I agreed. It should be fun.
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