Monday, 17 March 2008

The melancholy tale of M&S

I was buying my lunch today in Marks & Spencer and there was an elderly man in a wheelchair, marooned in the middle of an aisle, quite alone. I didn't see him at first but I bumped my basket on his chair as I walked past and the dull clang of our clashing metalwork alerted me to his presence. I did, of course, stop and apologise, which is more than I would normally do in this situation, since M&S is full of dithering idiots barring my progress towards the fresh scones (today: cherry) and making me question my childhood dream of living in a department store. And as I wandered off, I saw his female companion, a sturdy older lady, walking over to him saying, 'They haven't got any of your sandwich. They've stopped making it.'

Christ. You're old. You can't walk. You're abandoned mid-aisle in M&S. And they stop making your favourite sandwich. I would have said that an M&S scone could cure most maladies. But I'm not sure they could counter that much cruelty.

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