I wandered the aisles forlornly, seeking the one (somewhat essential) ingredient that I’d failed to find for my dinner tonight, and pondering the possibility of alternatives.
I’d made up my mind to buy a bag of tortilla chips, make the usual sauce and just dunk them into it, when a member of staff passed me, caught my eye and smiled kindly. I plucked up my courage to speak:
‘This is probably a really stupid question, but if you had any pasta, where would it be?’ Even though I probably go in there once a week in normal times, my memory struggles to retain that sort of simple information.
‘It WOULD be down the end of this aisle’ she admitted, ‘but there’s one pack in the back I can let you have if you want it?’
I felt very special and immensely grateful as she disappeared to some mysterious cornucopia and, returning, pushed a packet of dried conchiglie into my waiting basket, with the words: ‘..is that all right?’
‘That’s perfect, thank you so much!’
I didn’t admit that I’d only popped into her shop on the off chance of getting the one ingredient for pasta bake that I’d failed to find in the Tesco across the road.
Southsea Storytellers 