Wobbles

My previous post has gone into hibernation for a while. I got a lot of "You can't say that!" and "What's got into you?" "It's not like you" sorta stuff on and off line. And I mean A Hellava Lot. In a nutshell, I should be more, ahum, 'understanding'. Hookay..... Just this once...


Actually, it is like me. Given the right circumstances. I spend a lot of my time, day to day, being told what to do, when to do it, and how to do it by people who think they are 'caring'.  Otherwise I'm invisible. It's a bit of a shock when Clark Kent turns into 'SuperGob'. I make no apologies. However, I will attempt to be more measured in my expression of my opinions (rolls eyes). Warning though. The Wheelie is not dead yet..

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Went for a wobble to the local 24 hour Asda with The Bear for the first time ever late tonight. Felt closed in, needed to get out. Took us absolutely bloomin' ages.  Takes her half an hour alone, bumping into mates not withstanding.


It was creepy. All that space. Lots of  staff beavering away, and lots of bargains tucked away, I noticed, for unusual stuff for our area, like pitted olives and jarred garlic cloves or sun-dried tomatoes tucked away amongst the horribly expensive. Interesting sales technique.


I was gobsmacked by the space above my head. It seemed to go on for miles. I mean, why? Those odd self service / weight tills are a revelation. They're so inaccurate, so some poor lass had to flit from station to station resetting them. Might as well have a normal checkout.


And what's with the talking escalators? Do I really need to be told when to get on and off? It echo'd around the whole store. I half expected Arnold whats-his-knickers to burst out out, red eye gleaming with his BFG (Rather large weapon, madam) asking us to "Stup aside, I zeed a Kingsmill". 


There was a lift. Yup. A lift. Even that talked to us. Asda, take note. Belt up. You obviously aren't married. I have a missus who insists on that. Show some respect.


I was pleased with the dropped curbs, level access, rails, and safe crossings around the store. Though I'd hate that 20 foot Asda sign shining 24/7 in my window.


On the way back, only a few yards away, I noticed a café I never knew existed. A real, old fashioned café that serves a full English breakfast. Remember those? I may even do a #deathwalk tomorrow when Tots has gone to school. Next door to Asda.


G'night folks.