Biscuit Aisle

A new phrase has entered the vocabulary of the Three Legged Cat household. Biscuit Aisle.

We went to the supermarket on Friday, expecting it to be packed with people (like us) doing the last of the pre-Christmas shopping. It was pretty busy, but not too bad, until we reached the biscuit aisle. Then we got stuck in some kind of gridlock as we became instantly wedged in by dozens of elderly ladies, who were saying “Ooh” and “Mmm” whilst they dithered endlessly about which biscuits to buy. We were well and truly hemmed in, we couldn’t reverse because the crush behind us was unbelievable, so we had to inch forwards, moving painfully slowly along with all the other baffled looking people who were stuck there with us. When we finally escaped at the other end, everything seemed normal in the rest of the store. Bizarre. Why had everyone converged on that one aisle? Who knows. Do elderly ladies indulge in biscuit related Flashmobs? (Mr TLC has just reminded me that elderly people do often live on a diet of tea and biscuits, in fact I think my Granddad lived for years on little else, perhaps that explains it.)

The smug “We’re ready for Christmas” feeling evaporated later when we realised that we had forgotten to buy onions. Mr TLC set off for the local greengrocers this morning. Time passed. More time passed. I was on the point of sending out a search party when he returned. “What happened?” I asked. “BISCUIT AISLE!” shouted Mr TLC. “BISCUIT AISLE, BLOODY BISCUIT AISLE!” I knew exactly what he meant.

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