Tesco Metro at half-eight wasn't where I expected to find Oscar Wilde. Yet there he stood, fresh-faced and frizzy-haired, an unexpected icon in the bagging area. Rather than velvet jacket, knee breeches and cane, he sported a crumpled blazer, poorly-tied tie and Fila rucksack. Then again, which of us doesn't struggle in the morning?
Evidently relishing his new-found immaturity, Oscar LOL-ed as his colleague - Bosie, I presume - turned up the volume of the self-service machine. Most of the pair's doughnuts had disappeared before they reached the automatic door. Near the exit, I noticed Oscar pause to take in the heading on the whiteboard:
Did You Find The Products You Wanted In Store Today?
Handwritten suggestions from the Great British public ranged from the forcefully-inked (British apples) to the fading (maple syrup pancakes) to the faint (satay something). Oscar pulled the aged marker from its Blu-Tack grip, added his twopenn'orth and strode out to rejoin Bosie.
Perhaps he'd struggled to locate any sandalwood cologne or Trafalgar shaving cream? After all, I know from personal experience that this branch can't seem to maintain an adequate stock of Head & Shoulders.
Confident that Oscar had left the building, I sidled over to view the great man's words:
I wish I had written that.
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