Tea Anyone?

If you come to my house and get served tea in this teapot it means one thing and one thing only: you're the Queen. I'm damn sure nobody else would get a brew out of this. My little brother bought me it for Christmas about ten years ago and ever since then I've cherished it. I think I'm fairly easy to buy for to be honest: if it's football related I'm probably interested, and if it runs on electric and compliments my TV then I'm interested as well.

I'm aware this is a bad photo technically, but I'm not actually taking a lot of shots at the minute. I'm keen to keep blip up as the site has given me so much over the last 470 odd days, and I intend to continue to contribute. However sometimes you might have to settle for a substandard shot of something important to me. Like today.

In other news I went into Tesco at lunchtime and actually ended up chastising someone. Normally I'd wait until they've gone, but today I just couldn't hold my tongue. It was busy (stupidly busy for a lunchtime) and all I bought was a pack of mini scotch eggs and some cheese. Could I get down the ten items or less counter? Nope, because all the old timers who can't use the self service were there. Could I get down the normal checkouts? Nope, because all the trolley people were blocking the way. In this instance I like to use the self service things.

Not today. The queue for them ended halfway down the deserted 'pet food and cleaning products' aisle because of people with trolleys - that's right trolley loads of stuff in an aisle designed for us basket holders. The woman in front of me didn't offer to let me go before her instead opting to begin to scan her 1,000 items through one by one (obviously) while occasionally stopping to look confused or check her phone. Evetually I said loudly (in her direction but possibly not at her) that I thought those with trolley should use their aisles and let people like me on a lunch break to move through at speed.

I could do this because I'd already lost my rag and given my shopping to Kirky to process leaving me with five minutes to make my feelings known indirectly to every single ignorant trolley pushing arsehole in Tesco.

I'm not sure anyone listened or cared, so for the rest of the afternoon I've gently simmered away full of anger and rage.

Oh yeah and I'm not going to get to see Fe until saturday afternoon now as I have to work Saturday. I do acknowledge though that this is part of ym 'manager' role and therefore I can't really do ought about it.

Still grinds my gears though.