Bad Manners

Father’s Day and not too much thought about going for a walk today, especially as I was up late last night watching the World Cup and woke up this morning on the sofa after having fallen asleep during the 2am kick off.

The closest I will get to something too strenuous today will be doing the weekly shop at Tesco. Another of my pet hates roused its ugly head, as I reversed my trolley some distance to allow a woman in a wheelchair to pass. Not a murmur of thanks. OK, you might be in a wheelchair, but I’m sure your disability doesn’t stretch to an inability to acknowledge help or show any courtesy. Not that I have anything against the disabled, perish the thought. Poor manners, just poor, from anyone.

Anyway, I made my way around the store and bought a very fresh French bread. As I approached the till I relived the moment a few weeks ago when the gorgeous assistant told me that I had a very nice stick. That’s what I think she said. I was going to offer her a piece of it, but I thought better of it.

Well I guess it will be next weekend before my next walk. Either Friday or Sunday, it seems. Perhaps a gym session will have to do.

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