Warming Up

Sunday 29th December 2002

The man in front of me at the newsagent put his paper and other purchases and a ten pound note on the counter and muttered something unintelligible.
The lady at the till, calculated what was owed, took the money and gave him his change. There was a moment's hiatus and the man said, slightly more clearly, "And 20 Silk Cut."
The lady berated herself, "Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't got my head into gear at all today."
But it wasn't her fault. The bloke had mumbled his request and yet here she was, taking the blame, when she was in no way at fault.
She took back some of the change she'd given him and gave him his cigarettes and he left, without a word. To all outward appearances the shop-keeper was unaffected by the incident. She coolly served me, informing me, when I asked that the Sunday Times magazine had not arrived today. But was she so cool inside, or was she smarting from the error, beating herself up for not having heard? When all along it was the elderly man's fault.
I could have chosen to inform her that there was no way she could have been expected to understand his request, that she shouldn't blame herself, but I was a bit annoyed about the Sunday Times magazine (also the Culture section was missing which is the best bit, and the Style which I just throw away to be honest) so I let her stew in her own juices.
Oh how I laughed as I ran home.