Beyond suspicion

I’ve noticed that in Marks & Spencer, there is never an ounce of suspicion at the self-checkout. You can scan your jar of rose harissa paste, do a merry jig, then crucially not place said harissa paste in the bagging area, and the system will trust that you can proceed with the next item (likely a bag of honey roast ham crinkle cut crisps or a bottle of sparkling Normandy apple juice). This is in stark contrast to every other supermarket (probably except Waitrose, but I dunna go there), where the most minor and innocent bagging misplacement will have the machine beeping and at least 15 minutes lost whilst the shop assistant pretends not to notice.

Anyway, would-be pilferers could head to M&S where at the moment they can hide behind a face mask and snaffle the odd loaf of gluten-free sourdough. I suggest clutching a Daily Telegraph to blend in.

After noting all of the above I went to grab a coffee. The barista was in a chatty mood. ‘Good day? Bad day?’ he asked.

‘Medium day’, I said. ‘Every day seems a bit like that as I’m stuck in England and am trying to get overseas’.

‘What are you saying about our country?’

‘Nothing, I’m from it. I’m just factually stating that I’m stuck here.’

The coffee was delicious, made from one of those beans so rich it reminds me of drinking oxtail soup. It was worth the jovial patriotism.

I had to get on the blower with Mohammed from Etihad Airways regarding my overdue flight to South Africa, which I risk losing if I don’t rebook. Various barriers presented themselves and I didn’t get anywhere with Mo: it’s very difficult to travel to South Africa from the UK due to their strict rules, the permitted date ranges don’t suit me, my Mozambique visa situation is unclear and I’ll only end up changing everything again and incurring fees and fare rises. I think I’ll just aim for a refund...

The evening was wonderful and definitely far from medium. Dinner and chat with Pippa, my colleague and friend of old. She’s fabulous, and a generous plier of beers on a weeknight.