(which is, of course, the collective term for any gathering of the elderly)
I nipped into Sainsbury’s for a couple of bits and bobs before work today. Nothing too exciting – just some spuds and a bit of cheese to contribute to tea. And, frankly, they were bloody amazing additions.
One of the things you come to know and love about the supermarket – and the Sainsbury’s in town is no exception – is that the entrance way becomes the place to be for each and every pensioner-based meeting or conversation. In fact, half of the time you actually end up shopping is spent negotiating these wrinklies. They’re like a dense overgrown jungle – in that they’re hard to get through and also contain most of the medicines used by the Western world.
Today, it was almost as if they were playing some sort of pensioner Top Trumps. Some sort of competition to see who could cause the most congestion around a shop doorway.
Basically, one of them was on a stretcher. Full back board, the lot.
One can only assume that they had gone arse over tit in the wet conditions – the generic pensioner shoe is not blessed with grip and the combination of a wet sole and a well-polished supermarket floor is something that the opening five minutes of Casualty would be on like a tramp on chips. And you also have to factor in that somewhere in the mindset of the elderly is a niggle that if they’re not quick enough everything they want will be gone. This is why they queue outside the Post Office for ages before it opens – they need to be in quick or all their money will be whisked away by the pension fairies.
That flies in the face of the eternity they spend standing in shop doorways, but once they make it into the shop they’re off like whippets. Unless you’re behind them, then they instinctively slow down. It’s a hard life being a pensioner.
And I hope the one that was fastened securely to a stretcher is okay. There’s no reason to think that she isn’t. She seemed to be talking quite happily and I’m sure everything was being done as a precaution more than anything because any amount of arse over titting onto a hard supermarket floor when you have bones brittle with age needs a modicum of care.
But honestly, they could have wheeled away from the doorway a little bit.