Slab Boys

I went to get a flu jab, as I’d received a very bespoke letter for those aged 60-64. Get ye to the Gyle between 9am-11am if your surname is A-G. I’m sure someone had done the maths, but after sitting in an almost stationary queue (it moved when people gave up) some half a mile from the destination for quite long enough I decided I‘m going to have to chance it, as I have for my previous 63 years. But as we were at the Gyle with it’s capacious M&S, well…. 
I was amused how everyone milled around the aisles (keeping well distant obvs as it is quite an Edinburgh middle class clientele) but were prevented from filtering back through to the clothes department without going the long way round. For your own safety, the woman manning the entrance to the food hall gravely intoned. If only there was some way of finding out who had the bloody thing.
Later, I was whistled up to collect slabs. The boy wants an outside working space. So he doesn’t have to wear a mask perhaps.