• I stand, bored, as I wait in the queue.

    Beep, goes the scanner at the till.

    Beep.

    Beep.

    Beep.

    I gaze lazily at my surroundings, waiting.
    In front of me is a very tall man. He is fully two heads taller than me, with close-cropped hair and a long black coat. He would be almost intimidating had I not noticed the contents of his shopping basket, which comprise of a pair of round-rimmed Elton John-style sunglasses, a Blue CD, and a pair of pink stockings.

    He is probably buying those things for his wife - he is wearing a wedding ring - but all the same, it shatters his otherwise scary appearance.

    Beep.

    Beep.

    Beep.

    I shuffle dutifully forward as another person moves up to be served. To my left is a rack of sweets and chocolates, the kind placed purposefully close to the checkout in order to encourage last-minute impulse buys.

    I try to resist, but cannot; I grab a packet of Wine Gums and stuff it into my basket. Over at the other end of the checkout tills, an argument has broken out. An angry customer is yelling at one of the staff members, whilst another employee - clearly a manager of some sort, tries to calm him.

    A small crowd of interested onlookers is forming as the argument progresses; the irate youth has thrown his Nike sports jacket to the ground in his anger, and looks as though he's about to-

    Beep.

    I look up, surprised. I had continued to move forward in the queue without even realising, and have now reached the front. I smile apologetically at the girl behind the till and empty the contents of my shopping basket onto the conveyor belt.