Droplets of eve.

A good opening gambit, there, James. I respond with a couple of supermarket stories, number one:

I approach the cashier in Sainsburys at lunchtime. I'm buying my usual bottles of diet coke and tubs of mass-produced super-sweet rice pudding. She rings them up, I pay with a note, so far, so good. She opens the cash drawer to get me my change, and sits staring at it for a few seconds. Then she picks up a little plastic bag full of coins from the back of the drawer and tries to open it. She scrabbles at it with her nails and tries to pick open the corner. Finally, noticing, perhaps that I am getting restless, she takes the top into her mouth, closes her teeth on it, locks eyes with me and pulls the bag downwards. The bag stretches for ever, as she leans her head back, sticks out her lower jaw and gurns it open. At last the plastic tears, and she pours the fifty pence pieces into the till, before handing me my thirty-six pence of change.

"Sorry that took so long", she says, cheerfully. Indeed.

And number two:

I'm in the home-maintenence aisle, looking for black refuse sacks, when two girls approach from the opposite direction:

"Here we are - bin liners", says one.
"No, no, those are bin liners, we want rubbish bags", responds the other.
They argue about the various merits of each, and decide to get both.
"Ok, bin liners and rubbish bags - will these be big enough?", says the first
"Actually - do we even know which night our bins go out?"
"I don't know..."
They contemplate for a second, then the girl who has just spoken continues:
"Actually, do we even have a bin?"
"I don't know - I haven't seen one"

After giving a few moments more personal contemplation to this technical hiccup in their plan, they give up on bins and wander on to look at the bleach shelf.

Hope that was good enough, and expect future mundanities in the future if I feel uninspired.

Super-happy-blogathon score: 1