checkout chat up

Checkout chat-up

I was at the checkout in Sainsbury's the other day, with my weekly

shop (which incidentally has doubled in price since Betty went onto

proper solids), throwing stuff into bags, and being a bit grumpy. The

checkout boy (who, I guess was about 16 years old) was trying to chat

to me throughout. "So how are you doing today sweetheart?" he said.

Feeling a bit flustered about being called `sweetheart' by a boy less

than half my age, I replied: "fine" while I clumsily tried to open

another bloody carrier bag. "Here, let me help you out with that

darling" he said. While he was opening the bag for me, he then said:

"So what are you up to tonight then sweetheart? Are you going down

Saxty's?" (which is a local nightclub for the under 18s). `My god,

does this boy think I am the same age as him, or is he taking the

piss?' I thought. I could feel my face burning - I have no idea why,

normally I can hold my own with teenagers. I think I was a little

taken aback that I was, seemingly, being chatted up by a spotty faced,

gangly boy, something I haven't experienced for years. It certainly

felt very odd, as I now have a Betty, and am a mum, and do mumsy

things, and certainly don't go to bloody Saxty's.

Anyway, I ignored his question about Saxty's and carried on packing

(although at this point I was hastily throwing it all straight into

the trolley). But the boy wasn't giving up and asked me again: "What

are you up to tonight?" And so I BLURTED (without taking any pauses):

"I am cooking a huge roast chicken with all the trimmings and we are

going to eat it at 5pm so that our baby daughter can join us and we

can all eat together which will be the first time and so it is a very

special occasion and it is a very significant step because she will be

eating what we are eating which means she is growing up which is sad

but also happy and she is such a wonderful baby and she is 9 months

old and I am a mum and I am married and I am 33 years old and we are

all looking forward to our big roast chicken". The boy stared at me

for a second, looked slightly perturbed, and then held up a pack of

two tiny chicken breasts that he happened to be scanning at that

moment, and said: "What? A huge roast chicken with this?" My god, he

was still managing to fluster me, even after that mental barrage of

information I just gave him. "No, actually I have a whole chicken at

home" I said. I could tell he didn't believe me though, and he just

smirked.

It was all true though. I did have a big chicken at home. We invited

the family round and all ate together with Betty, who absolutely loved