Tomatoes are more complicated than they look

I think that the slower pace of countryside life must be addling my brain. Either that, or most people who live in the countryside are total mentalists.

Take yesterday for example. I paid a visit to the shop in my neighbouring village to buy these:

Pic.No.1 A bag of tomatoes


'Tomatoes?' I hear you cry, 'not even you, Mrs Waffle-Gob, can make a blog post out of tomatoes!'

Pic.No.2. The 'Village Store' in my neighbouring village, Wheatley


Oh yes I can. Get this, it's bloody unbelievable ......

I had done my shopping and was stood in the checkout line waiting to pay. Checkout always takes ages in country shops because in general, village residents regard their trip to the store as a social outing.

And as such, more or less every time I go to the store, I end up stuck behind some old dear (because it is mainly old people who are guilty of this) chatting to the checkout guy about what Dirty Den got up to in yesterday's episode of Eastenders.

I am telling you now; young people have Facebook, and old people have the supermarket. 

But that is totally irrelevant. After queuing for about 20 minutes, it was eventually my turn to check-out my shopping. The chap behind the counter scanned all my items and then arrived at my bag of tomatoes.

He carefully took the bag and then spent at least a minute gently squeezing all the air out of the bag. Once all the air was gone, he pressed some buttons on the till, and handed me my bag of tomatoes which by now, looked like a large wrinkly scrotum.

I held my scrotum aloft and stared at him blankly ('what the bloody hell was that all about?' I thought). It was though he'd read my mind.

"Tomatoes are priced by weight," he explained before winking, "and I didn't want to overcharge you."

Bloody hell. So, it appeared as though the checkout guy had got rid of the air in the bag of tomatoes to ensure that he hadn't overcharged me. Bejesus, at first I thought he was taking the piss, but his innocent 'I-have-just-helped-a-shopper' grin told me otherwise.

If that wasn't enough, some old mustachioed chap from the Squadron who was standing behind me, leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "that's customer service for you isn't it my dear? You wouldn't get that in Tesco."

Is it me? Am I going mad?

Annie (Lady M) x

Anne Dickens | The day after yesterday

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