I try not to book anything into my diary on the day following night shift. I’m not in a place to really be sociable or to be able to concentrate . It’s a mooch day A sleep followed by a tidy of the cottage which strangely always looks as though a bombs hit it after three nights on duty. I walk the dogs, sleep until midday then go to the supermarket for provisions . I’m here now, nursing a strong coffee in the cafe after following the store detective whilst he was tracking an offender. I get a lot of sad vicarious excitement at doing this, as I am in tune with his non verbals and know when he’s sussed a shoplifter. Today it was a skinny, well dressed young man trying to slip vodka into a backpack Soon, when covid is less of a worry to all I can return to my shopping trolley game You know, the one where I sneak arbitrary and very odd items of interest into the shopping trolley of someone I know. My best “ attack” on record was with Gaynor The Ma...
