Brocolli Anyone?

Tonight we nipped to the supermarket as most of the things we need were either thrown out in the move or have been left at the old house and we haven’t got round to fetching them yet. We are also back onto store brands of everything like when we were students. Damn you mortgage.
Anyway, onto my fascinating tale. Whilst I was perusing the milk out of the corner of my eye I saw a person approaching. “May I interest you people in some brocolli?” he asked. I thought it was some kind of brocolli rep giving out free samples. When I turned however I found I was quite mistaken. A long-haired fellow, about my age was holding out a teeny, withered floret of broccoli to my husband. Mr Pigalina, polite man that he is, declined saying that he didn’t have any money on him. Imagine our delight when we were told “Nah, I’m giving it to you”, and the green gem was thrust towards us. We gratefully accepted until we reached the aisle with the plants, into which it was promptly flicked.
I would love to be that mad/eccentric/drunk/out of it that I could, without shame do things like that.
Mr Pigalina is also beginning to learn that all my talk of odd people in shops is not lies!


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