Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
When I woke up this morning my intention had been to walk my dog, Arthur, then pop out to Tesco for some stir fry vegetables. Well, that was the intention. Unfortunately, I had a very bad night’s sleep and then my pain levels today have been eye-watering, making moving about really difficult.
Forced to put his walk on the back-burner, I pootled around all morning doing small jobs that I could manage and then went into the dining room to lay down on the sofa in the warm and read for a couple of hours. Inevitably, I had a nap, only for about 20 to 30 minutes but enough to make me feel refreshed and generally better.
After getting up and making a cup of tea, I took some more painkillers and embarked on an argument with myself about whether I should push myself for that visit to Tesco or change what I would have for my tea. I managed to talk myself into going and so, shoes on, I hobbled out to the car.
Once there my hip was screaming at me that this was a very bad idea but I persevered. As quickly as I could, I assembled peppers, mushrooms, courgettes, spring onions, and pak choi in my trolley and hobbled towards the self-service checkout. Now, I should’ve known that this was a bad idea as for some reason I’m never able to use the wretched things without issues, but as the queue meant standing at the other tills, I felt I had no choice.
I picked my nemesis, put my shopping bag onto the plate, and began the battle. Almost immediately it began to complain – just one onion in and the screen shouted at me that I needed assistance. Looking around there was no one who could help until I noticed the designated operative standing having a chat with a colleague.
I waited and waited until finally able to catch her eye, I smiled and waved at the screen, shrugging my shoulders. Reluctantly she came over (though took her time), waved a card at the scanner, and I was able to continue…except that I couldn’t. As soon as I scanned the green pepper it stopped again. In the length of time it had taken me to bag my onion, the operative had walked back to her friend and resumed her conversation.
Again, I stood waiting, shifting my weight as the pain increased so that finally I called: “Excuse me, I’m sorry but it’s happened again!” Glaring at me she stomped over, picked my shopping bag up off the plate, and threw it back down again saying crossly: “It’s because you’ve got the bag in the wrong position!” Sheepishly I scanned the green beans but had to move the bag to pop the beans inside, whereupon, it baulked at the pak choi.
Now, this is where my perverse sense of humour creeps in. Knowing I would have to call my truculent assistant again, I got the giggles. Stifling them, I looked over my shoulder to see her looking straight at me, glaring. Our eyes met, her irritation clear, but before I opened my mouth she stomped over, grabbed my bag again, laid it on its side, and spun the opening away from me while proclaiming: “I’ve told you, it’s in the wrong position!”
I snapped, but not with anger you understand. I literally burst out laughing as I said: “But I have to be able to put stuff in it, consequently, I’m going to have to move it aren’t I?” I could tell she was furious with me, coming back with: “But it won’t work if it’s not in the right position!”
Unable to behave myself I retorted, giggling: “And how exactly are we to know what the right position is, it could be anything from downward dog to completely flat in a southwesterly direction! And, in any case, if it’s so sensitive about being moved, how am I supposed to put my shopping inside?”
She glared at me, flicked the card at the scanner, and stomped off while I was still laughing because I could see how ridiculous the whole situation was. Then, just two courgettes later, it stopped again. This time she was ready for me and calling a young man over, motioned for him to come and assist me, refusing my entreaty. Thankfully, as he stayed close by and I only had the mushrooms to go, I was able to finish the torture, pay by card, gather my things, and leave the shop still giggling.
I wasn’t laughing at her but the situation was utterly ridiculous and she was so rude and cross. She should have been upset by the wretched scanner, not me or my badly behaved shopping bag!
Amazingly it absolutely brightened my day. I’m often amused by the ridiculous and I’m always able to see the funny side of a situation, particularly when someone’s behaviour is obviously wrong. But, I suppose I should have concealed my delight at her annoyance so, if you read this, I apologise.
Not only do I apologise for laughing, but I can assure you that I’ve started a training programme for my shopping bags – so far we’ve managed the cobra and the corpse pose, so we should be ready and have options available for our next shopping trip!
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.