...if you were shopping in a certain supermarket in Bedford this lunchtime, I'm talking to you - yes, YOU.
I have a message for you:
- Not only does it make you look like the shit-for-brains cretin that you truly are, wearing a mask does not entitle you to strut about manfully, expecting others to leap out of your way.
- If you had a trolly rammed up your arse, it is your own stupid fault for pushing in and trying to grab a bag of carrots from under my nose.
- Stop yacking, put your sodding phone away and look where you are fucking going, ok?
- Please kindly refrain from standing in the middle of an aisle and rearranging the contents of your trolley for five minutes, while all about you stand there twiddling their thumbs because you are blocking their way.
- Wearing a resting-bitch face and muttering darkly will not get you ahead of me in the queue for the checkout. If you want to go first, then get there first.
- Leave your significant other at home/in the car. Lovestruck adolescents you may be, but you really don't want to be sauntering about holding hands, you stupid gits.
- What part of TWO METRES APART is too hard for you to understand? If you still don't get it after all this time, and nothing can make it penetrate your thick skull, then fucking well go home and stay there.
- To the miserable checkout operator who was smiley and friendly the last time I was in a few weeks ago - never mind, I don't want to be there any more than you do, and I'm sorry that so many of your customers are so awful.
To everyone else reading this, thanks for letting me get this off my chest!