The checkout operators - a beacon of calmness in a simmering sea of unease - deserve special mention. Others not so much, writes Kevin Page. Photo / NZME
The checkout operators - a beacon of calmness in a simmering sea of unease - deserve special mention. Others not so much, writes Kevin Page. Photo / NZME
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Opinion:
Last week, when Jacinda announced lockdown, I hopped in my car and went straight to the supermarket.
I wasn't the only one.
By the time I'd arrived there was a queue to get in the carpark, a queue to get into the shop and queues at the checkouts whenit came time to leave.
It has to be said some people handled the situation better than others. The checkout operators - a beacon of calmness in a simmering sea of unease – deserve special mention in that regard. Others not so much.
Granted, with an invisible deadly virus most likely floating round us at any given time some folk could be forgiven for being a little tetchy.
Like the young "lady", and I use the term hesitatingly, who was yelling and screaming abuse at the elderly lady in the carpark as I arrived.
I can't say for sure exactly what had happened but they were both stuck in their cars, nose to nose, neither moving as the abuse rained down from the younger side.
Naturally I thought I should do the decent thing and try to help.
Long story short, I walked over to the by then clearly flustered elderly lady and suggested if she moved her car over a bit the other driver could get by. So, she quickly reversed.
Over my foot as it happened.
Thank goodness the footwear I had grabbed as I raced out the door not 10 minutes earlier was a pair of work boots complete with protective steel toe caps.
Anyway.
I finally get into the supermarket and it's both chaotic and interesting.
Chaotic because people seem to be rushing round grabbing everything and anything. Interesting because, well, they seem to be grabbing everything and anything.
Like the bloke who has four tubs of hokey pokey icecream, three boxes of indigestion tablets and a 12 pack of toilet roll in his trolley as we stand in the checkout queue. One wonders if their usage will also follow the precise order I've just written them in.
Then there's the worried looking young man with wine, fancy cheese, crackers and two boxes of condoms. Presumably he's hoping for a long lockdown with his partner.
Or, now that I think about it, he might be worried he might run out before lockdown ends. I mean once you open the pack you basically have to get into it straight away.
I know what you are thinking and you are right. That's always the way with cheese, isn't it?
Like last time there's a lot of toilet roll in the trolleys and, as mentioned, a lot of wine.
Chocolate seems to be a favourite where I'm standing too with a lot of mums and dads presumably deciding the best way to calm kids down when they are going stir crazy is to give them a chunk of instant sugar rush.
I'm sure that will do the trick.
While we are on the subject of food groups that are not perhaps considered conducive to a healthy lifestyle, I have to admit my recent newfound employment has led to some time on the road and, as a result, the time honoured tradition of stopping for a coffee.
And as anyone who has been down that track will know coffee must come with a suitable pie, muffin, savoury, sandwich, etc, etc. It's the law.
Naturally I am a law abiding citizen, if you get my drift, so I have been doing my best for the roadside café industry over the last few months.
It would be fair to say as my workload has grown so has my belly. Along with my embarrassment as my normally chiselled abs, ahem, now give the impression at some stage I've swallowed a bowling ball and it's trying to get out.
So, I'm hoping by breaking the cycle during lockdown I'll be able to lose a few ton and get back on track.
I mentioned the same to Mrs P as we were emptying the bags of items I'd brought back from the supermarket.
She thanked me with a pat on the belly.
Ordinarily it wouldn't bother me but as I say I'm a little sensitive about it at the moment so vocalised an objection, which basically means I went off at her.
A little bemused and stunned by my response, she apologised, gave me a hug and put the jug on to make me a nice Calm-Down-Cuppa.
It was, she explained, not her saying I was getting fat at all but merely "a pat of affection".
That made me feel better.
I figure she must really love me because she's been doing it quite a lot lately.
• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to editor@northernadvocate.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field).
