Undefeated

Some days you just wake up feeling golden. The sun was shining, 'Leisure Noise' by Gay Dad was on the car's CD player (one of 1999's most underrated albums), and life was good. Little was I to know it was about to get a whole lot better!

As per usual, I stopped at the SPAR minimarket on the way to work. For those unfamiliar with the SPAR chain of stores, they only ever seem to be placed in the seedier parts of town, where the customers seem to resemble Amy Winehouse minus the voice and millions.

As I enter the store I see two old Grannies deep in conversation about someone's tumour or the price of beetroot or whatever. We'll call them Granny Fran and Granny Anna.
I'd like to point out that I generally consider old people to be like zoo animals that someone has released into civilisation in order to annoy me and get in my way, but I digress.

After selecting my tasty treats I make my way to the cash register, manned as always by young Imogen. Granny Fran is explaining how bad her gout is so I take up station behind her. Almost immediately I'm aware of someone joining the queue behind me. A sneaky glance behind shows a pair of steel-toed workboots, leading me to believe that a tradesman of some kind is there (it's called situational awareness, the RAF are big into it).

As I look back up Granny Anna is sideling up to the queue at my 10 o'clock. She turns to me and flashes me the Granny equivalent of puppy dog eyes, clearly expecting me to allow her into the queue ahead of me!

From that moment on she became my adversary. She had engaged me in silent competition, people, and it was on!

I started formulating my tactics on how to beat her, but these urban combat situations are fluid and sometimes you just have to take the initiative when fate throws you an opportunity.

Granny Fran has finished paying and as she turns round, bitching about having to pay 2p for a bag, she drops her walking stick.

Bullet time.

Here was my moment. I drop, blocking Granny Anna between myself and the cardboard Lucozade display, pick up the walking stick, then I stand up and step forward to the till, AT THE SAME TIME!

It's all over bar the singing. Imogen starts ringing up my Irn Bru, cheese Doritos and my Kellogs Nutri-Grain bar (it's like an entire breakfast in one wee bar!) and Granny Anna is looking at me like I've pissed on her favourite armchair . . . . but my story is not yet over, dear friend.

Granny Anna, knowing she's been beaten by a worthy adversary, now turns the puppy dog eyes on Bob The Builder behind me who says, and I quote:

"On ye go, hen. I'll let you in!"

Oh happy day!

With a cheery "See ya!" I about face and walk out of the store with my head held high.

Still got it.