I walk down the frozen produce aisle, swinging my shopping basket, glaring at a few people. Going to the supermarket is a challenge, but I’ve never ducked a challenge. A shelf-stacker is making a pyramid of canned soup. I smash it down. Nobody can live with my POWER.
People say it’s much easier to knock over tins of soup these days than it used to be, but I’ve done it all over the world – Tesco, Pick And Pay, Indian roadside stalls. And you can only knock over what’s put in front of you. I’ve always managed to do that. It’s not my fault if the standard of tin-stacking has gone down.
Fishing counter. I whip out my trusty fishing pole Big Sue and settle down. No bites yet, but I can afford to be patient what with little Alfie there to… oh. Alone now. Settle back and think of the good times. Cry a bit, but in a manly way.
After a while, a shop assistant comes over.
“You’re an obnoxious little weed,” I say wittily.
“Er, okay sir,” say the weed. “But would you mind not dangling your… fishing rod?… in the frozen fish counter. It’s not hygienic and it’s upsetting for the other customers.”
I tell him that top-level grocery shopping isn’t a popularity contest. It’s about results. And fish.
“Look,” he says. “What would Jesus do?”
Good question. I pop in a bit of chewing gum and mull it over.
“Show commitment?” I suggest.
“No,” he says.
“Be positive?” I say.
“Catch a fish?” I say.
“No,” says the man. “Look. Whatever. But He probably wouldn’t sit in a supermarket polluting the fish and being mean to people. And your surfboard is blocking the aisle.”
That’s an interesting thought. I plan to put it in my next book: How To Cook Kangaroo Roadkill On A Surfboard. It’s kind of a love story, but with recipes and inspiring anecdotes about commitment and mateship.
Roy even says he’s going to learn to read so he can really enjoy it. Thinking about that inspired me so much that I destroyed a display of pasta sauces. There’s so much still to live for.
Alan Tyers will not miss Matty Hayden