Well there I was yesterday afternoon driving through the countryside coming back from the municipal dump where I offloaded splintered bits of kitchen and general household rubbish, I noticed a sign for a Farm Shop. Being a 'shop local' type of lass with ideas of chomping on peculiar sounding apples and gnawing on a tuber fresh from the soil I followed the signs with gusto (and the ladyfriend)
I walked into the farmyard where I couldn't move for poultry, they were free range more by accident than design, the place had an air of neglect. I found the shed/shop and walked in. Inside not only did I find the shelves groaning but also the shop keeper, her head was bent over the lollo rosso. "Are you open?" I asked "hrruuummmmph" was the reply. I began to 'browse' and she went out of the door. It felt nice to be trusted so I picked up a loaf of bread and some preserves. I was ready to pay.......but where was the lady?
After a few strained minutes where I didn't know wether to scarper I walked out and popped my head around a larger shed door. She was in there hacking at something with a HUGE knife, a sheep dog joined me and rubbed my leg with its wet coat.
Then I saw a young man coming from the farmhouse "Coo Eee" I said and mouthed "can I pay please?" I returned to the shop.
A minute or two passed and then SHE came back shouting "get out, get out!" I was mortified until I realised she was keeping the dog from coming in.
I thought at first she had had a stroke as she limped in and nearly went over "Are you ok?" I said I leaned closer and then I realised she was blind drunk, really, really drunk.
She looked at my shopping and tapped the numbers in the till one number at a time circling the digits with her index finger as she focused. She gave me my change with a bloodied hand. I declined a bag.
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