So, I was in Tesco's deciding whether to use the trolley as a bowling ball and send it hurtling down the cooked meats and pork pie aisle to scatter the various pins that were causing constipation to the free running when a big hand thing reached down through the ceiling and pulled me, regardless that I had a million cans of dog food plus a loaf of bread - Sandie said get dog food and something for us and I noticed she emphasised on the note it should be something that could be used over a couple of days or so and not something that can be consumed in one sitting and costs more; so that was the big bag of Maltesers left on the shelf, sheesh! Oh yes, I was being pulled up by the collar in front of everyone who was totally oblivious to what peril I might be in; thanks!
You get a whole different perspective of the store when you are looking down from the lofty heights and people don't look as big girthwise but I could be totally wrong about this because I only had a split second to notice. Next thing I know I am balanced on a cloud; now, I know a lot of you have been transported through clouds while enclosed in one of those fart sharing tubes in the sky, commonly known as airplanes, and you have noticed that they are without solidity, so you can imagine my nervousness at finding myself sitting on one just waiting to fall through and realising that there is nothing to hold on to. Just like trying to sunbathe on the water coming out of the hose, if you get my drift.
Now a few of you maybe questionning either my sanity or if I had spent too much time down the washing powder aisle inhaling various apparent fragrances of meadow flowers and rainfall, but this particular day I had been nowhere near anything remotely mind altering, although I must admit I have the choice each morning of taking my tablets with either the green or the yellow end first. Green is pretty non thrilling, but the yellow end can have an effect if taken with ignorance of the fact.
Anyways, as stated, I am sitting atop of a cloud and all I can see is this large hand and a pointy finger coming out of the sky, obviously the same one that dragged me up here. My internal database does some matching and decides this must be God and I immediately sense that he is p*ssed off about something. Now, how did I know it was male? Easy; although his nails were very well cared for and looked like they had never accommodated soil or anything that could be considered dirty; and even his skin appeared clean and soft - obviously not done a day's graft or a few deliveries to the local amenities with broken furniture and a bag of cement that had set while still wrapped. The give away was the hair on his fingers; sort of coarse and manlike; however, I could be totally wrong and he/she had gone oveboard with the testosterone.
Hold on while I turn the big light off. It went a tad dark earlier while a cloud melted and rained on us .... Right, where was I? All of a sudden he/she appeared in front of me, no longer the anonymous hand in the sky and it was an overdose of testosterone because there was an awful lot of facial hair ......
Okay, okay, I'll get on with it ..... hey, just a thought, you know the phrase on a £5 that says `I promise to pay the Bearer of this note five pounds'; well what would happen if you went unto the Bank of England, being the one who made the promise, and handed in the £5 note (or any other denomination of IOU) and asked for your 5 pounds? Now it doesn't say that it will give you money so there is nothing to stop them giving you a 5lb bag of magic beans or such. I know, food for thought isn't it? See, if you but a stamp at the Post Office you have a contract with said organisation for them to deliver your letter or parcel, but the bank gives you an IOU and says as it is from them you can exchange for anything up to the value of £5. It is akin to your mum sending you down the shop for stuff and saying that you can get some sweets as well and tell the shopkeeper to put it on the slate and she'll settle up on Friday.
What did the big fellah in the sky want? Oh, he said not to wind up people who came to the door and wanted to talk about the world and how god loves us all, although some denominations aren't too keen on certain humans, and even though I may not have enjoyed the book they carry there is no need to tell them that you saw it televised and wasn't too keen. Luckily, when he had finished lecturing, he returned me to said Tesco's, although my trolley had disappeared (thanks!)and I had to start again, but Dawn French had said on the Tesco's advert last night that if I hit `favourites' on their website they would give me a list of the produce I always seemed to purchase, which I thought was nice that someone in the office was so bored out of their skull they actually followed me around the store and took note of everything I put in my trolley. However, if they were that caring they could have informed me what person slipped the bumper pack of menthol condoms into my trolley!!! Don't you just hate it when that happens? Menthol? WTF?
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