But I wish I did have that insight. I reckon it would make for a belter of a telly series.
Anyway.
So, I’m in town getting some stuff for the garden and I can’t find it. A woman who works there comes past, so I stop her and ask for assistance.
Now, in my experience in this particular place, nine times out of 10 when you do this, you get a friendly response. I know they probably get interrupted 20 or 30 times a day just like this, but I can say my inquiries have always been met with polite helpfulness.
But not this day.
With her face looking like she wanted to inflict serious bodily harm on my good self, she fixed me with a totally peed-off expression and said: “What?”
Now normally I’d just roll with it and repeat the question, but I was so shocked at the vitriol in her response that I probably did the worst thing possible. I laughed.
That made the thunderclouds roll in even more, but eventually, I managed to get across what I was after and she led me to it.
Then came the next “problem”. The item I wanted was behind some others which had to be shifted. A fed-up groan came from my new friend.
At this point, possibly because the groan was so loud, a fellow employee came over to help.
Unbelievably, his well-meaning offer of help was rebuffed in no uncertain terms and came accompanied by a two-second stare-down which was one and a half seconds longer than it needed to be, if it needed to be at all.
And so the three of us stood there. Two of us were too terrified to speak and the third was grumbling away on a task she obviously hated, presumably in a location she disliked as much as the two blokes who had spoiled her day.
Eventually, the item secured, I shot through as fast as I could, leaving the angry lady to fire another death stare at her innocent and bewildered co-worker.
As I say. The interaction left an impression on me.
Fast-forward a couple of days. I’m on the road for the day and I call into a bakery.
Ahead of me in the queue to the till are an elderly couple, and it’s pretty obvious they’re at loggerheads.
Can’t say for sure, but I’m thinking he’s done something pretty upsetting and is now being made to pay.
He asks if she wants to share some chips. She responds icily. She doesn’t like chips. He would know that if he paid attention.
Would she like a sandwich? No. She wants a roll. Not that one! He should just leave it. She’ll get it herself.
At this stage, they are at the till and she doesn’t want tea or coffee. She wants water. The young girl behind the counter gets her a small bottle. No. She wants a glass. No. Not that one. It’s too big. Don’t they have a smaller one? They don’t. Big sigh.
At this point, the woman goes from being obviously unhappy and grumpy to just plain rude.
“Oh, just forget it,” she barks before turning and walking out of the bakery, leaving an embarrassed hubby to apologise before handing over the tray of food he’d carefully selected and scampering off after her.
As I say, I’m not privy to what went on beforehand or what had been going on in their lives. But it has to be said, common decency and politeness were very much in short supply that day.
Later I’m back in home territory, and I’m on the phone to Mrs P relaying the events of the day.
As is usual, I’m required to call in at the supermarket on the way home and pick up something or the other, and so I grab it and make my way to the checkouts.
I’m standing there in the queue, an elderly lady next to me, as the teenage girl on the till goes through her paces.
It has to be said she’s obviously tired, not saying much and coming across as a bit sulky, to be frank.
Right about then, as the queue inches slowly forward, the elderly lady tapped me on the arm and leaned in with an ironic comment.
“Young people today just have no manners or any idea how to behave, do they?”
