Sunday, November 4, 2012

Coles

I went to Coles yesterday, to stock up on some groceries. I needed some juice and nibbles, as the weekend was in full swing and the one thing I planned to waste it on was lying around and going through my hard drive's Torrents folder.

It was really busy, as it was almost closing time on a Saturday. The parking lot, already famous for the utmost insanity that goes on it during rush hour, is a Russian roulette for pedestrians like me. The only and unavoidable way through is dodging pensioners who don't even look around, crazy mums who don't give a fuck about anyone (because they have to run and feed their kids) and random, seemingly homeless, people who keep nicking trolleys.

I felt like I was on candid camera as I walked in and did what felt like twenty-four three-sixties. I went out of the store and back in three times in search of a basked, but I guess there were so many people that they were all taken. The downside is that these situations totally stupid me out and I'm lost within seconds.

Not knowing whether to just chuck stuff in my reusable bags or get the mere basics and carry them in my hands (or just run away), I was still circling the entrance like a goldfish in a circular jar-style aquarium. I finally came to my senses and went toward the cash registers, where I took one basket which was sitting on the side.

Bingo!

I grabbed some stuff as soon as I could and decided to leave the isles lying furthest away for another day. A better day.

The queues at the cash registered were already beginning to take a snake shape, so I went for one with only three people in it. Phew! Being all drawn into my own shopping, the tiny Einkaufszettel* that reminded me of all the things I needed to get and figuring out how I'd carry all that shit home, I raised my head and boy, did I have something to see.

Busy mums with three kids in their trolleys, romantic couples that basically can't wait to get home (but can't keep their romance to themselves), Tibetan monks, barefoot hipsters grabbing a refreshment after an evidently crazy night out), a nose-wiping boy at the cash register, probably totally fed up with having to repeat flybuys? and cashout?, and me.

Me, with my three bags, a French baguette sticking out of one and the gusts of wind pushing me from side to side at times. If I don't get blown away, I will have made it.

Next stop, LiquorLand!

*See the photo below, taken from the Internet.
Verlorener Einkaufszettel

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