cockpit shopping

Energy levels up, pain levels down, all limbs present & correct; and so we finally had an outing. No, the supermarket wasn't the main destination - we just stopped off on the way home to pick up something quick to eat, & it's always a lot quicker if I wait in the car; and whilst he does his hunter-gatherer thing I amuse myself with people watching - or, harassing him: I can never think what I fancy to eat (at least, not at the time I'm asked), but it's not unheard of for me to call him on his mobile whilst he's trawling the aisles, usually requiring him to retrace his steps back to where whatever has just tickled my taste buds is located.

I much prefer being on the outside of supermarkets & I think hubby may secretly prefer it that way too, as he's never quite got over the time when he mislaid me in Tesco's, & when he finally tracked me down (in the chicken aisle) it was to find me being harangued by a security guard; I suspect that it was only my wheelchair which deterred them from instantly frog-marching me off the premises, but, no doubt wary of sensationalist headlines in the local rag, instead we were both tailed around the store whilst we finished our shopping - in record time, as being shadowed was a highly uncomfortable experience; we couldn't wait to get out & so were appalled to find long queues at every checkout; but our faithful shadow was as keen to get us off the premises as we were keen to get out of there, & he'd radioed ahead to another employee who was waiting to usher us to an empty checkout which was opened just for us (this could be a useful - though not necessarily enjoyable - ruse for avoiding long queues in supermarkets). A third security guard was waiting at the other side of the checkout, & shadowed us all the way to our car.

And what had I done to earn us such special treatment? I had committed the unforgiveable sin of Taking A Photograph!