A Capital Offence

Nothing tops off a long day at work, like realising you only have enough change in your purse to buy two peppers to go with the semi-soft jacket potato waiting at home for you...Except adding totally uncalled for public degredation to the situation.

It was in my local convenience store. In the standard consumer fashion, I picked up two large (and may I add shrivelled) red peppers, put them in the brown paper bag provided, and made my way to the till. After standing in line for a couple of minutes, I reached the desk clerk, who requested £1.64 and held out his hand, awaiting payment. So I started counting out my money (in 10's and 20's by the way - nothing smaller) and then it happened. As I picked up my fifth 20p coin...he clicked at me. The way that people click their fingers at waiters in Spain. Or at dogs. I was totally horrified and equally dumbstruck. Had that really just happened?

Unable to speak, let alone come back with a witty retort, I hurriedly conformed to his non-verbal request, thrust the offending peppers into my bag, and bolted.