Confession time: I have a deep seated psychological problem that genuinely affects everyday life. I’ve just turned the TV off and got myself away from Facebook; ruling out Attention Disorders and according to my alter ego I’m not schizophrenic. No, it’s that I can't be late. If I'm even a minute behind schedule something clicks in my brain that no matter what the event is, it's more important than anything else; even personal safety. This means I'm far more prone to running across roads at full pelt and God help you if you're old and walking irritably slowly. You know who you are.
This impulse makes even the most run of the mill tasks incredibly difficult. Take last week when I had to dash to the shop before heading to the pool for the daily 1500m swim [I’m proud of that... can you tell?]. In all honesty I had five minutes to spare but if I say I'm meeting someone at 10:30, I’ll bloody be there. Now I was buying a couple of bags of Doritos, chewing gum and enough beer to drown a small village for the weekend [standard buying for any student really] and sure enough, I had to flash my driving license to prove I was indeed old enough to buy such outrageous products.
This in itself isn't really a problem, I'm used to it but surely you don't have to spend two minutes checking the card, looking at my face, checking the card and look at my face again [I'm guessing the vague hope that I'll magically grow five years younger so my face looks more familiar]. Eventually the poor woman decided that I was indeed who I said I was and eventually put through the beer and crisps. The next question had me fuming... "Do you want any savings stamps?" Savings stamps? I don't even know what they are. I don't even have any postage stamps. I'm buying beer and crisps. Savings stamps are very much not on the agenda, unless it means that my shopping will be cheaper next time... which I very much doubt.
It's not all bad though, this psychological block that means I can't be late. You never miss the start of the football or a film at the cinema. But you also get the comfy end seats at the side of the lecture theatre so I can snooze. Its only downfall is when it comes to going to the shops for your last minute beer; you get the choice of the lonely cashiers who are all too keen to sell you savings stamps. Next time I’ll go even earlier and give the cashier hell. Get to the checkout with my shopping and give the “ooh, forgotten something... I’ll run back and get it” before going back to the beer aisle and picking up exactly the same stuff and taking it to another till. Yeah, that’s right ladies and gentlemen... Power to the people.
I know they’re just doing what they’re told to say but it’s never the rare good looking checkout girl that bombards you with questions, it’s always the ones that look like they’ve been lured down from a mountain with a hunk of meat... or the ones that have been living in the bins outside the back of the shop for so long eventually they offered them a job. Absolutely no justice whatsoever.
I’d also like to point out that if you were in any way disappointed in this blog, it was because my aforementioned alter ego Ted wrote it... I’m watching a DVD and reading a book.
No comments:
Post a Comment