I leave my family's Christmas presents on a train

To Lancaster for Christmas.

I worked for hours to get the fare down to £33. Coach to Birmingham, dodge the train as far as Stoke-on-Trent, single to Alsager but stay on till Crewe, single to Preston, dodge it from Preston. On the last leg, a masked guard from my railway days, whom I didn't recognise at all, greeted me warmly and chatted away until he suddenly remembered he had to open the doors at Lancaster.

This year we only had two of my own girls and our semi-adoptee. The eldest was away selfishly earning £600 a week with full board in Cambridge. She was "teaching English" in a place tellingly described as a "camp". It's a private school where rich parents can pay for immunity from accusations of child neglect.

On 28th I used another set of half-unpaid-for trains to Middlesbrough. I turned up a wee bit merry to my mum's house, which was stuffed with brothers nieces, nephews, girlfriends. They're all teetotal Christians, so they'll understand.

I'd left all their Christmas presents on the train. I recovered them from Northern Rail's hideout on platform five at Newcastle Central station. The lass handed me my bag full of spangly-wrapped presents, unmolested by chav attention.

Last night I was in a near-deserted Tesco with my scooter. At the till was an unhappy lass, who might consider a move to Wigan, where she'd find the diet more to her liking.

"You're not supposed to bring those things in here." "Am I not?" "No, there's going to be a policy about it." "Oh right. Can't see any notices about it." "Well, there's going to be a policy."

Got a response today from Tesco HQ saying that they "don't have a particular policy [...] However as with most new technology it's common sense at the moment." There was nothing in her email to suggest they're considering formulating a policy towards scooters.

So why do people like Mrs Blobby pretend they're spokespeople for their companies as a cover for inventing policies? She's translating her own response, which I'm guessing might be one of these.

"I can't stand all you scooter riders, having fun and getting about town for pennies a day. You represent a sort of freedom I am secretly envious of, but I'm too fearful of joining in with."

Or, "I'm poorly educated and struggle to adapt to situations with which I am not already familiar. I'm only being unfriendly towards you because I try to limit the number of novel events that I've got to deal with."

Anyway I wasn't in the mood for an argument and bade her goodnight.

In future I'm sticking to the local Pakistani-run shops. More expensive, but better (cricket-related) chat and no fucking arguments about scooters, masks, pay only by card, keep apart, one way systems...

Mr Khan treats me as a person. Mrs Blobby treats me a mud-scraper to temporarily rid herself of her own resentments.