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Location: BP petrol station, Richmond
“Pump 8, the Nelson Mail and oh, I’ll take an $8 Executive Car Wash”
(“Executive” is the cheapest. For $12, you get “President”, $16 gets you “Potentate” which involves the sudsy bit being performed by vestal virgins or something similar).
“Nah mate” (DON’T CALL ME MATE! I’M NOT YOUR MATE, I’M YOUR FUCKING CUSTOMER!) says callow youth “Carwash is stuffed, eh. No idea when it’s gunna be fixed, eh”
“Just pump 8 and the Mail, then”
“Don’t want the wash, mate?
Shouldn’t have said it, but….
“Now, if it’s not working and you don’t know when it’s going to be fixed, why would I want to buy a car wash voucher right now?”
“Aw, to use it later, eh mate”

Location: Pak’n’Save, Richmond
Standing in front of the delicatessen counter – peering over the top, actually  – with the intention of buying some bacon in quantities smaller than the pre-packed 2k chunks.
Standing there for quite a while, in fact.
“Wanna hand theya” ask a voice from somewhere on the other side.

As if I had a choice.

Did I look as if I was waiting for the flight to Auckland?

Shouldn’t have said it, but….
“Well, given that there’s plate glass between me and the 4 rashers of bacon I’ve got my eye on, yes, I probably will need serving…”

Bloody hell….