A Diary of a Man of no particular interest - 2

Dear Diary,

Lorraine is in the toiletries aisle, or at least it WAS the toiletries aisle until they started switching everything in the supermarket around. You actually can’t find anything here and it takes way longer to shop than normal. It doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, the switching around of stuff,  probably because this is the social event of my week these days and time isn’t an issue, but I still use it as an opportunity to bond with elderly strangers .“It’s awful isn’t it, you can’t find anything” I say to a woman in the former fruit section, now the stationary/crisps/frozen pizzas section. “Dreadful” she says, and “Very annoying” , but you can tell that she’s getting endorphins out of complaining and I’m getting endorphins out of our conversation. Win - win. You see, the elderly are great conversationists, you just need to know the topics of conversation that they like. “And that 15 bus service is just awful too” I say shaking my head thinking this is a slam dunk. She looks at me confused “the bus service?” she says “why are you talking about the bus service?” I think about bringing up the road works or the new roundabout, but instead decide to bail “I’m going to ask for help” I say and sidle off, because the chat isn’t going as planned and I didn’t work out an exit strategy.

She’s facing bread, Lorraine, that is, and I need bread because the two loaves I have at home will be gone off in a week or two, so I have to go down the aisle and I couldn’t go all the way down and not talk to her, so it’s settled and not weird at all. Off I go. Medium pace. My goal at the end of this conversation is not to say something I’ll be thinking about for the next four days.  

I’m there before I realise that it’s too late and I’m holding toilet wipes. “I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure with the mask” her eyes dart to the toilet wipes, or it could be my imagination. I should address them. “They’re for a friend of mine” I gesture to the elderly woman behind me. “Oh right, that’s very kind of you to help her out” I agree briefly and move the conversation on. Wow, I think i'm getting good at this.  She tells me her family are isolating and she hasn’t seen anyone in 10 days. She tells me her boss has been really unreasonable about the store refurbishment, the customers are fed up and the staff are exhausted. I tell her how I don’t mind, which she likes. She then tells me she’s watching love island and it’s shite but good craic and something to do.  It is shite, and not good craic but I don't say that. A man behind Lorraine is getting nappies and peanut butter, which seem to be beside each other. Maybe you buy the peanut butter and they give you half price nappies. No, maybe not, on reflection, that’s probably not a correlation the peanut butter company would be happy with.

I tell her how my neighbour caught me getting rid of my massive stash of empty beer bottles and how embarrassing it was, she seems to find this funny. Everyone is drinking more than usual she says, which is nice. I tell her the story

It happened like this: I opened the door and Dave was watering his plants as usual. ‘Nice weather’ he said. I look up. It was, I suppose. ‘Yes’, I replied. Then there was a very awkward silence as I transported three bulging bags of beer and wine bottles to the boot of my car. Usually I would say something like ‘Had a bit of a party’, or ‘just getting rid of the evidence’ but with the ban on indoor gatherings, my excuses were thin on the ground, so instead I say ‘Had a bit of a party’ but with a tone of irony in my delivery. The irony was not received, and Dave muttered something about ‘responsibility’ and ‘all in this together.’ I stop the story because the elderly woman is approaching behind me and I see her reflection as the glass door swings open in cold meant in front of me. I feel like a spy. 

“We were both saying how terrible the place is, you can’t find anything”

Lorraine looks at her with a concerned look, but I can’t help but notice her stiffen, she's  been getting it in the neck all week. “It’s not that bad come on” I say

"What?" she says

“You’re lucky to have a friend like this, to help you shop” Lorraine says

What? she says looking at me

“here you go, here’s your toilet wipes" I say and drop them in her trolley. 

"What?" She says, understandably

"I thought you’d like them"

"What?" Which is becoming a bit of a catchphrase for her.  

Lorraine looks at me quizzically

“they’re far too expensive, and I don’t like the way they feel” she says 

“Oh sorry” I say, and put them back on the shelf beside the dog food – Lorraine doesn't even bother to move them, in fairness this shop is chaos.

All in all, as I get into the car and think, that wasn’t the worst interaction I’ve had at the shops, but it’ll probably be a few years before I can reframe it in my brain in a way that won’t make me cringe in the dark under the covers at 1am