Saturday Surprise!

This weekend, I decided to challenge myself to a little adventure...a weekend outing on the bus into my local town.

My main dilemma was what to wear, as this was a proper outing, not just a ride home after work.  And one should never wear work gear on a weekend, it just wouldn't seem right.  When I catch the bus in the week, I haven't a single care what I look like, as I am in my work clothes.  But this was different!

Wardrobe decided, I headed to the bus stop with my shopping list in my little bag.  I was going to Tesco!  Yes...after 2 whole weeks....you see, I was getting SWS - Supermarket Withdrawal Syndrome, because I usually frequent Tesco at least 2 or 3 times a week.  I had an online delivery on Friday, but it's just not the same as being there and feeling the firmness or otherwise of the produce etc.!

I stood at the bus stop, visualising myself running my fingers over those courgettes and testing the firmness of the pears.

The now familiar bus rounded the corner and I stuck my hand out assertively.  I'm not actually sure anybody else except myself does this nowadays....I guess it's just a habit of mine.  Bus driver probably wets himself laughing when I do it.

The other passengers were a much cheerier bunch than those during the weekday rush hour (that's a laugh!) and an elderly gentleman whom I knew from when I worked in the local shop a few years ago came and sat next to me, and we chatted happily throughout the journey, as excited as the other passengers to be getting out and about.

We disembarked at the same stop, and said farewell and went in different directions....him through the little cut-through to the card shop, and myself towards Tesco.  Which has moved further away since the last time I visited, I'm sure.  Oh, yes, well that would possibly have been in my car.....which makes the lengthy journey not-so-lengthy...imagine that!

I headed for the blue Tesco sign which blazed like a beacon on the horizon.  The far horizon, I might add.  It was a good 15 minute walk up to their sliding doors!

Feeling quite liberated by now, I decided that I may well throw caution to the wind and treat myself to a taxi back home.

I can't even begin to tell you how good that trolley felt as I pushed it into the store which I had missed so much.

I browsed to my heart's content, touching up the veg and joyfully trailing my fingers along the length of the cucumbers.....such bliss to be able to grab and squeeze things!  You just don't get that from online shopping!  I half expected some of the staff to welcome me back and ask if I'd been away, but I think they were all busy.

Well, I needn't have been so concerned about my wardrobe choices, as there were all manner of outfits on display by other shoppers.  I decided these people obviously had their car with them, as I, too, believe it or not, have not cared what I look like when all I need to do is hop in and out of the car.  But you are more obvious when you take the bus.....people notice you.

I wandered up and down the aisles, mingled and browsed and smiled at other shoppers, and had a thoroughly good time.  I put my purchases through the checkout, and left the store.....examining my goods and deciding that because I only had 2 carrier bags (full, I admit), that I could indeed carry them the half mile or so to the bus stop and save myself a) being scoffed at by the taxi driver and b) about £4.00.

When I say I only had 2 carrier bags of goodies, I realise that I had packed for the car boot, not for the trek to the bus stop.  I should have distributed said items between 4 carrier bags, as my 2 carrier bags were straining and the plastic was visibly stretching with the weight and I feared they may well snap.  I could only blame myself though, as I was guilty of doing the packing. I said a silent prayer that the wine bottle wouldn't break if the handles snapped.

I utilised the shopping trolley as far as I could.....well, as far as I felt morally inclined to do so in case the trolley boy was watching...and deposited the trolley at the limits of the car park, leaving it there with a dozen others, no doubt from a dozen other bus-goers.  A little way on, I noticed a solitary abandoned trolley at the Red Line, across which 'No trolley shall ever venture'.  So that was true, then!

In the far distance I could see the bus terminus, and pushed myself on with my 2 carrier bags stretching and growing longer by the minute, almost scraping the ground by the time I reached - in the blistering heat of possibly the hottest day since time began - the bus stop.

I sensibly placed my bags down in the shade of the adjacent bins, being careful to check beforehand that the ground was clean and without human or dog spillage.

My luck was in! Only a couple of minutes later the bus turned up, and the bus queue and myself boarded.

Not so bad, after all, I mused, feeling relieved.  Then the bus engine was switched off and yes, you've guessed it, the driver went outside to make a call on his mobile.  The heat in the bus was quite stifling whilst it wasn't moving, and I was soon hot and bothered, overheating and running with sweat.  I extracted my shopping list from my little bag and fanned myself, regretting not buying twice as much as I had and therefore feeling justified in grabbing a taxi home.

The driver finished his call (I heard him saying 'I'm supposed to be driving' and resisted the urge to yell 'Yes, you effing well are' as I've been brought up to be polite and not upset others) and we set off, to be serenaded all the way by some gobby woman at the back on her mobile who was effing and blinding like there's no tomorrow.  I could sense the lady sitting nearby me flinch at each swear word.  A posh-looking lady.  Obviously not too posh to use her free bus pass though, eh?!!