Topcorn

Sunday afternoon was not my usual day and time to do Ms N's shopping. I was impressed when she opened the door dressed in her church attire, all clean and perfectly ironed. She introduced me to her guest who was visiting her at the time, also a paragon of elegance. It was a striking contrast between their aesthetics and my wild hair and red, sweaty face - luckily no muddy trainers this time as it wasn't a day for gardening tasks. God, I love running missions on weekends, a perfect excuse for not looking too civilised on Sundays.

Ms N said she missed me on Saturday, and then politely expressed doubts about my capability to deliver goods within their expiry date. I denied I have been buying anything else than products with the furthest possible expiry date. I stopped right there and decided to act professionally. I took the cash, the list and the shopping bags, then disappeared Cheshire Cat style, leaving only my smile behind.

I was not sure I would find everything from Ms N's list so late on Sunday but I was lucky to pick up the last loaf of Schar bread in the Co-Op and the last bottle of corn oil in an off-license shop. To be more precise, I haven't picked the corn oil from the shelf personally as it was on the very top shelf and I couldn't even notice it. Fortunately, the shopkeeper knew where to look for the corn oil and the kickstool.

The only hiccup I encountered was in Sainbury's where I was held at the self-checkout because of a till refusing to dispense fivers. The rebellious machine was a telltale sign of the slowly approaching Judgement Day - I bet GoodGymers will have their hands full when that actually happens.