Jesus was inside Coles this week, or at least the woman who was in front of me started shouting his name when she saw the size of the queue. Personally, I couldn't see the good man anywhere, just a whole lot of senior citizens buying soup. I asked her where Jesus was exactly, just in case I'd missed him and was promptly told to fuck off. Obviously, it was far too much effort for her to say "My goodness, Coles really is busy today," and probably wouldn't have caused nearly as many people to turn and stare and wonder if she was suffering from Tourette syndrome. Anyway, after a wait of a whole five minutes, during which the woman in front of me repeated several times to the checkout operator that she was never going to shop there again and that the service wasn't nearly good enough and how come they didn't supply plastic bags free of charge anymore, that the operator could go stick a fly buys card up her arse and that anyone who worked or shopped or was in any other way even vaguely associated with Coles Supermarkets should be lined up and shot (okay, I made that last part up,) I finally got to the front of the queue. "What a rude customer," I remarked to the checkout girl. The girl merely shrugged, gave me a zombie like smile and muttered something about how that customer came in all the time. "She's always telling us that she'll never shop here again."
"Pity she doesn't carry out her threat then."
"Mmm, yeah." The girl sighed again as she totaled up my purchases. "Do you have fly buys?"
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