"How are you today sir?"

I was very humbled to receive a 'Cat's Ass' award for humour yesterday from the featherednest and in order that it may grace my virtual Blog mantelpiece - I'm obliged to write something funny. Where better to mine for that precious resource called humour than in the annals of one's own life? Here's my meagre attempt to do just that...all this from a few months ago...

I'm always finding myself in trouble and usually I'm the innocent victim of circumstance. I'm not someone you need to 'read' - what you see is what you get and what you get is a silly, naive, polite and good humoured individual. However, I'm presuming there are not many of us around as it causes no end of problems when I'm in public places.

I like to take everyone at face value and also call everyone I meet by their name - and so when the checkout chick at Woolworth's says "How are you today sir?"  I take a mental note of their name on the shiny name tag and then tell them "Thank you for asking (insert name here) - last night I had something of a headache but today-"
My wife usually cuts in at this stage to remind me that they 'don't really mean it' and have no interest in how I am really. This troubles me - why did they ask it then? What if I meet the one checkout chick who really does mean it? It would be so rude of me to ignore her kind inquiry.
Shopping at Woolworth's is a huge moral and ethical dilemma for me therefore and I find myself stressing before I even reach the checkout - not so long ago this was compounded by the fact I'd forgotten my spectacles...I'd just put my Cornflakes on the conveyor and the checkout chick asked the dreaded question - "How are you today sir?" I froze. Is she the one who really means it? I gathered myself together and realising I had forgotten my specs I leaned forward to read the name tag on her chest before responding and she stepped back quickly - "Are you staring at my tits?"

"No - No! I was trying to-" I stretched out my arm to point to her name tag but close distances are problematic with no specs on and I must have been too close for comfort - "Are you trying to touch my tits?" I was horrified. I imagined her grabbing the intercom thingy and announcing to the entire Park Ridge Woolworth's store "Security! Pervert at checkout seven. Pervert at checkout seven!"
Fortunately the intervention of my wife seemed to calm the situation though I was somewhat disturbed by the ready acceptance of her explanation.
"He's Scottish" My wife said. And the checkout chick returned to ease as though 'being Scottish' explained everything.

I was in a daze. Clutching my Cornflakes I headed for the exit and heard the girl call 'Have a nice day'.

Still reeling from my experience I entered the Post Office next door to get a postage stamp.
"How are you today sir?"
"Shut the *&** up" I growled and the woman froze but I quickly followed it up with, "I'm Scottish".
She relaxed again then.

Actually the last two lines are a lie but it's what I felt like saying :)

PS - I believe I'm obliged to send you all heading for someone else who I find funny - in which case you may find my choice hard to digest - but this man is (in my opinion) not only funny - but is the dearest, sweetest and yet most powerful intellectual Scotland has ever produced - Ian Hamilton QC I'm proud to say I've met the man twice and no one, no one in modern times has done more for Scotland - and all without fanfare.

Rory