Wednesday 27 June 2012

The Check Out Stand Off

Today is my day off .....

To see clients, read, write, practise a downward dog or simply to stop, sit still and listen to the ebb and flow of my breath.

Every Wednesday, I hand over a very willing Little A to a child minder who's taken care of her for nearly two years. She's a down to earth, consistent woman who I completely trust with my toddler.

In the lukewarm spill of the shower I consider the day ahead. I make mental notes of friends to text, twitter, or facebook - why don't I just pick up the phone - and engaging ideas for blog posts. I had intended on writing another instalment of my Once Upon a Time series but then this morning unfolded in a surprisingly baffling way .....

My ten o'clock appointment cancels which means I have an extra hour in today's schedule. I decide upon an excursion to the local supermarket. I've already prepared a hastily written list of culinary regulars like fish fingers, cheerios and 50/50 bread. Additionally, my purse harbours the all important shopping trolley pound. So off I set in my blue grey mummy mobile to the holy grail of food aisles in Chiswick.

I prefer to shop at the supermarket during the morning. As the aisles are relatively empty, I can navigate my trolley along two for one soup deals, wheat free inventions and palate sweetening condiments with wistful abandon. It's practically a meditation and by the end I feel almost self actualised.

Today my item list is short and so my shop is a brief contemplation.

I head for an empty check out. The trolley is laden with bounty and biscuits. And this is the moment where matters start to get a little strange.

In the adjacent queue I spot the husband of Younger Dad's cousin. He's there with his toddler who's deeply asleep in her buggy. We say our hellos and make small talk. I'm stuffing yogurts, bacon and houmous into a bag when two other customers line up behind me. One is a woman who appears to be of Malaysian origin. Her countenance hints at late middle age. The other is a man dressed head to foot in smokey grey attire. I don't notice him at first.

The cashier is still scanning my items when the woman moves to stand beside me. She's looking into an open purse with the anticipation of buying her goods. She isn't aware I haven't finished yet and I'm feeling a little uncomfortable with her proximity. Inkling tells me she might be new to the country. The cashier acknowledges the situation by asking the woman to step back until I've purchased my goods. She obliges without any fuss.

Without my noticing the man dressed in grey, Mister Grey, positions himself on the other side of the loading area so that he's stood facing me. He's also too close for comfort. I glance at him. His face is fairly young. I'm thinking early thirties. His expression is tense and ashen. His grey clothes are casual and a little unkempt. Then I look down to view what his fingers are fiddling with. I'm amazed by what I see. Between his hands are layers upon layers of fifty pound notes the thickness of a Bertolli butter tub. Actually, probably thicker than this. My first thought is no one carries around that amount of cash ...

I feel threatened by his stance and the wad, of what may be, dubious money. There's something edgy about him.

Now the woman is sidling closer again. I feel flanked and hemmed in by both strangers.

Enough. I've had enough.

I take a step back and foolhardily request "guys, could you both please give me some space here until I've finished".

Mister Grey tightens his facial muscles and retorts quite malevolently, "I can stand where I like. I'm from Brentford. The streets."

I tell him I need some room. That I feel intimidated by his presence. That I don't want to see his pile of cash.

He snarls, "you think jus' cos you're from Chiswick you can order us around. I'm a dad y'know."

"Well I'm a mum."

My friend in the other queue butts in "she's not from Chiswick."

He's right. I'm not. But hang on a minute. So what if I was?

Then out of the blue the woman hisses "no" and orders Mister Grey back to her side with the commanding flick of a hand.

What? They're together?

How are these two disparate souls connected?

I finish packing and pay in haste. The cashier apologises. Why? She hasn't done anything wrong apart from burdening me with annoying coupons I'll never use.

Before I leave I turn to the odd couple with a parting shot, "this wasn't a class issue, this was a space issue."

Mister Grey is about to respond but the woman admonishes him with a steely look. He backs off.

My friend escorts me to my blue grey mummy car out of concern for any reprisals.

As I pull out of the car park I see the woman and Mister Grey exiting the supermarket. I'm left wondering what brought these two characters together. It also dawns on me that Mister Grey's mention of his origins had nothing to do with class but was instead a threatening gesture. And why was he in the Chiswisk branch of Sainsburys with all those crisp pink notes?

I left the supermarket in a not so zen like state.


So tell me, what do you think was going on? Bent? Or just won the lottery? I'd love to know your thoughts .....


18 comments:

  1. OMG that sounds very sinister, I'm glad you had a friend to walk you to your car.

    Who knows what they were up to, you should report it to the Police, sounds very dodgy to me.

    Glad your ok

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for stopping by to comment! It was. Unfortunately its probably too late to report it now. In hindsight I wish I had done!

      Delete
  2. What a horrible experience! Things like that can really eat away at you - I hope you re-zen soon and get past it.

    I'd stick to Waitrose ;)

    xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. No, it wasn't very pleasant. I have now fully re-zenned. Waitrose here I come! X

      Delete
  3. Oh dear - poor you - I found that really disturbing and wish I hadn't read it just befre I go to bed! So glad your friend was there too - and I agree that you could report it. Keep me in touch. Here if you want to chat some more X

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. No, it wasn't very nice. And I felt quite disturbed afterwards too which is why I had to blog about it. Will do! X

      Delete
  4. Oh dear. I have to say he sounds like a bit of a div to me. Who on this planet counts Brentford as "The Streets?" Tell him to hop over to Hackney and I'll take him on a little tour of some real "Streets" where actually most people are really decent and give you your space. I wonder if he is related to Ali G, but just hadn't got the humour angle down pat yet?!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Quite. And a very good point about the East End. He was very rude, and quite clearly there was something going on! Ali G - ha ha!

      Delete
  5. Extremely creepy! I wonder if it was some kind of planned scam thing? Maybe a distraction to take something? Weird! Especially right at the checkout? Maybe you could call the store manager to see if they know something. I hope you have a terrific crazy-free weekend!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes it was ... something dodgy was clearly going on. I wonder what would have happnened if I hadn't said anything. Crazy-free weekend sounds good to me!

      Delete
  6. Good grief! That's a scary episode. Glad you got back to the rest of your day safe and sound, if a bit shaken!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes it was, and some thing I would not want to repeat again. I should have kept my mouth shut!

      Delete
  7. God that is scary, the only things I can think of if he said from the streets I guess he might be a drug dealer or gang member, but it does sound like they might have tried a scam, as above it was like he was trying to distract you. Hope your ok xxx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, it was all very dodgy and I should have reported it. You are right - it could have been a scam. Who goes counting out money from such a huge pile of cash?

      Delete
  8. Oh, you'd think in Chiswick these things wouldn't happen...alas no. Tis infiltrated with all kinds of dodgy sorts these days. This story reminds me of my own experience with the ladies who stole my phone. Crowding of personal space and distraction were all part of the ploy to get me flustered so they could implement their crime.

    It sounds a dreadful experience. I can empathise, poor you. Thank goodness your friend was there to see you to the car. Just so you know, if I'd been in Sainsburys that day, I would've come to your rescue. x

    PS. The only other person I've ever seen with a wad of cash as big as the one you describe was an foriegn lady in Selfridges. Dripping in diamonds the size of butterbeans. She was paying for something in the queue in front of me...she clearly had no idea about the cost of anything as she bought something for a £5 and tried to give the assistant two £50's! Hope you're feeling ok about it all now. x

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for that lovely reply, and your reassurance. I felt very harrassed at the time. And on hindsight I think some dodgy distraction technique was going on. The whole thing was just too wierd ... all that cash ... and two very, at face value, different people. In a way I'm glad I spoke up ... if something dodgy was going on - then by asserting myself - I probably stopped it from happening.

      Delete
  9. Very weird! My first thought was some sort of distraction thing, and I remembered Mummy Plum's phone being nicked and how that happened. Were they trying to steal your shopping? Your purse? Clearly they had enough money with them. I'd mention it to the supermarket manager too, just in case similar things have happened to other people and they can keep more of an eye out for trouble. How bizarre, and how awful. Polly

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It was. I had my purse on me, in my hand, but it was definitely a distraction technique of some sorts. The only problem was that I called their bluff! I should have mentioned it at the time but was in too much of hurry to exit the situation.

      Delete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...