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It wasn’t me

December 20, 2014

I bought two small bottles of cider in the Spar round the corner.

Two indian guys behind the counter were laughing and chatting away in their native language.

The guy who serves me places the second bottle in the blue carrier bag, but it tips over onto its side and clanks loudly.

“It wasn’t me!” he blurted out.

I start laughing: “‘It wasn’t me!’ Ha ha…”

He looked at me like I’d peeked into his living room window at night and says: “£4.75, please,” with an outstretched hand.

Filed in: Personal

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