The View from Parson Street Nose

I was sure I could hear a sheep!

A plaintive bleating like the poor creature was trapped somewhere. And then my common sense switched on, how could there be a sheep stuck on East Street? Turning the corner outside Blunts, the mystery was solved; two women were in paroxysms of laughter over some shoes in the shop window.

"Oh, Di, you do make I laugh," bleat the sheep.

"I'm telling yer, – I couldn't wear those if I had scaffolding on me ankles," said Di, wiping the tears from her eyes with the cuff of her coat.

"Scaffoldin'?" The sheep was off again. Giving Di a friendly shove, she sent her crashing into the window. There was a slight lull and Di sent out several bursts of laughter, each of them sounding much like weaponry being discharged.

"What's tickled you two, eh?" A bow-legged fellow in shorts waddled up to them. "Fancy yerselves in a pair of they, do yer? Eh, eh?" He had shopping bags under his arms and yet more carrier-bags dangled from his hairy mitts.

"As if," cackled Di. "Give us some of them bags then, Shaun. You looks like a helper-monkey."

And away the trio went, the occasional sound of the ack-ack gun laugh echoing down the street.  

I'd said I'd meet the Skipper by the 'three bottles for 10 pounds' section in Asda. I could see him perusing the wine at the far end of the store but was unable to progress any further towards him.  There was a platoon of ladies positioned across the main aisle; all were talking at the same time, and very loudly.

"Excuse me," said an assistant, bustling up to them. "Excuse me, ladies. Ladies! Ladies!"

Her final call for attention served its purpose and like a pack of meerkats in rainwear, they all turned towards her.

"Could you break it up, please ladies," said the assistant. "You're causing a blockage, shoppers are backing up."

There was much grumbling, the sound of a squadron of tartan shoppers being repositioned and the meerkats dispersed, shuffling away down the aisles, muttering as they went.

"Look at that woman," hissed the Skipper, when I eventually reached him. "She's taking photos of the wine. D'you think she's a spy for Tesco?"

"I know what that is," I whispered to him. "She'll get a call from her other half in a minute, you see if she doesn't."

Sure enough, right at that moment the theme tune to Skyfall rang out.

"What do you think then, babe?" said the woman. "Three of that red 'un? Are you sure, babe? You know red wine always gives you the squitters."

Skipper let out a disgusted snort any pig would have been proud to produce.

"Yuck," he said. "That's put me right off. I think I'll stick to Guinness. You know where you are with Guinness."