Tescosterone

I forget to tell you all yesterday about Tesco-gate which occured on Sunday afternoon, during a very dull, humdrum, and uneventful shopping trip.

S and I were at the checkout, loading our 'wares' onto the little conveyor belt, when I heard an almighty slamming noise and looked behind me to see Steve had slammed down the 'shopping divider thingy' (technical term) between our shopping and the shopper behind and was giving the shopper behind some seriously filthy looks.

Apparently what had happened was that very rude shopper 'b' had demanded that S put the divider inbetween our shopping in an aggressive manner, so S had just reacted in exactly the same way....aggressively. So then they started squaring up to each other, saying things like (in a South London accent, if you will) 'if you're gonna maff off, then do it to my face you f**king stupid w**ker' blah blah. I felt like an audience member of Springer/Lake, or even 'Vanessa'.

Having not heard shopper b being rude to S, I thought S's behaviour was bizarre, terrible, and was humiliated infront of this big Q of shoppers (c,d,e and others). They were tutting at us like we were pikeys and I was casting my eyes to heaven in Steve's direction as if to disown myself.

Later on after we'd left Tesco's without any black eyes, I was accused of humiliating S by 'not being on his side'. And he said 'surely if I reacted like that, you must have realised something had been done to warrant such a reaction?'. Well, erm, I'm not sure. Does aggression need to be met with more aggression? Can I say the word aggression any more in one blog?

Could the situation have been diffused and less awful for all if S had just 'risen above it'. But maybe he was right I ought to have taken a default stance of being on his side and assuming he must have been 'wronged' to react...I would have expected this from him if the situation was reversed

Testosterone ladies and gentlemen. Please raise your glasses.

On a happier note, last night I made cards with Laura and Jacqui, the gorgeous Compton Ave ladies and it was pure bliss. Really good therapy. And so I'm discovering the best type of therapy for me is writing and making. Cards in particular. With glitter. It's good for the soul.