Wastage, and the great British eccentric

I was in our local Sainsbury's at 7am the other day. We needed milk and a loaf of bread, and although I could have probably picked up both at the local newsagent's, it was chucking it down outside and I needed a lightweight raincoat as well.

As I reached the bread counter, the staff were throwing away the loaves and rolls from the previous day: great big bags of them, dozens of loaves of bread baked a few hours earlier and now thrown into a bag marked "NOT FIT FOR SALE". I don't suppose those loaves were even donated to homeless people as there's probably an EEC rule which bans such benevolence just in case a vagrant happens to choke on a sunflower seed. It always made me smile in India when we'd go along to the laacaal shop to get bread and then ask if it was fresh.

"Aaah, aah, fresh saar, yes; fresh yesterday."

Which links, not at all well, to the great British eccentric. One of the joys of commuting is that you get to see all manner of nutcases, listen to all manner of banal and tedious conversations, and witness bizarre behaviour. Years ago, I used to carry a notebook with me and jot down these eccentricities, even trying to transcribe particularly dull conversations word for word. Once all my stuff arrives from India, I might dig out some of those old notebooks and post some of the conversations here. But anyway, back to the present.

Last week I sat next to a courting couple who obviously hadn't seen each other for three or four hours or more and were consequently overcome by the urge to eat each other's lips in between each sentence. After ten minutes of slurping, I gave up trying to read my book and shut my eyes. Yesterday evening, I sat next to a Chinaman who, five minutes into the journey, stuffed several pages of The Sun newspaper down the back of his shirt. Well actually, he stuffed the pages up the back of his shirt. I suppose it gave him more satisfaction than actually reading the thing.

Image from The Eccentric Club blog.