Well "that" wasn't embarrassing. Actually, it was incredibly embarrassing and I think I'd better share the incident with you as I feel the need for emotional support.
In the wake of yesterday's "launch" of my Great North Run fundraising effort (thank you to Anne Gault and my old school chum Darren Shaw for being the first very kind people to put their hands in their pockets), I went for a little training jaunt this morning dressed in smaller shorts than is usually my wont. The reason for my non-normal attire was because they have a little money pocket and I was planning to finish up at Morrisons to pick up a couple of bits. Fascinating stuff.
Anyway, lap of honour around the Kingdom of Guiseley complete, I popped into said supermarket. But then I got a bit carried away. Lemon chicken on offer?! I'll have some of that! Orange juice bumper family pack for £2.50? Wow - yes please! Ooooo, coffee cake! I haven't had coffee cake in years. Into the basket with you, sir!
After chucking a copy of the Wharfedale Observer and a loaf (all I went for in the first place) in with everything else, I was about to make my way to the self-service tills. Then I spotted three Dairy Milk Chunks desserts in the "Was-Now" section. I mean, it would be rude not no. One for Jamie, one for Charlotte and one for me. Mummy could lick my spoon (STOP IT!) So in they went and off I went to pay.
Beep, beep, beep. All was going well. Until, that is, I reached the desserts. With all three yet to go through the scanner, my bill total stood at £8.94. However, with each dessert priced at 39p, a quick bit of mental maths told me that the final amount required would be £10.11. The problem was, I had only stuffed a tenner into my little shorts pocket. I could therefore only afford two desserts. Charlotte would have to go without.
I put the first one through...beep! £9.33.
Then the second....beep! £10.11. Bugger.
It had charged me full price. So I called the nice lady over.
"Excuse me," I said. "It's charged me the wrong amount. Would you mind doing your thang?"
"No problem love," she replied, as I stood in my little shorts sweating like a pig and smelling like a horse.
She then spotted my third dessert which was still in my basket. My cunning plan had been to hide it behind the till since it was beyond my budget.
"Tell you what, give me that one and I'll put it through too," she instructed.
"Er, you can't," I whimpered, my pink face now turning a much deeper colour.
"Because I haven't got enough money. I only have this tenner, you see. I do have another 11p at home but, er, it just wouldn't fit in my shorts." By this time a crowd was building up.
"Don't worry love, just you stay there." I could begin to sense smirks.
The lady returned with a bag of coppers.
"This is the change the kids leave behind when they come in to buy their school lunches. I'm sure they wouldn't mind. How much do you need?"
She put 11p into the little slot.
"There you go love. Don't forget to drop it back in next time you're passing." And with a wink and a smile, she was off.
I don't expect to be passing for a considerable period of time.