Human Detritus a.k.a the Delights of Grocery Shopping

If you wish to see an example of the living dead, look no further than the supermarket on a Monday morning. Dissatisfied pensioners, the disenfranchised and the disaffected from all walks of life, gathering to share their misery. Unhappiness and hopelessness abound and along with them, the resultant mannerlessness strewn down every aisle. Is it any wonder then, that those interred to the staff of these establishments become equally zombie-like pits of moroseness?

The positives? There are positives. One is that it's wonderful fodder for the venting of one's spleen. Another is that it's a brilliant reminder of the road not taken. Had a rubbish day? Been sacked from your job? Think your life is unsuccessful or unproductive? Want to tell your boss how much of a space and oxygen thief he/she is but don't have the courage? Fear not. Simply pop into the nearest large supermarket, preferably in a low socio-economic status suburb, on a Monday morning and sharpen your tongue (and your most dour facial expression) for the onslaught.

There are many stellar lines to be employed in this environment, but my personal favourites are:

Oh, I didn't realise you were mute. Excuse me!

Clearly you don't have a full command of English or our customs. Allow me to assist you. In this situation you would normally say "excuse me" and I would then obligingly step out of your way.

And the perennial favourite...

Oh, are the words "excuse me" not part of your vocabulary?

The last one is closest to my heart. It's concise, succinct, everything your English teacher prayed for in your essays at high school.

And, in case you're wondering, yes I really do say those things... out loud.... at people.