Licensed to Kill*
My local off-licence is conveniently situated 1 minute and 32 seconds walk away from my front door.
I go there.
Woman in front of me in queue.
Troll Woman Behind Counter: Are you seeing him tonight?
Woman In Front Of Me: Aye.
TWBC: Give him theym from us.
Hands over box of Roses chocolates.
WIFOM: Aaar. Thanks.
She departs. TWBC notices that I have overheard.
TWBC: Aye. She’s the sister of one of our customers. He hasn’t got long. The drink, ya knaw. Liver’s knackered. Another operation this week. They say it’ll be a miracle if he pulls through. Nae chance, really.
Me: Em. O.K. then. Twenty Regal Filter please.
TWBC: There ya gan.
We complete our transaction.
TWBC: [quietly] Such a shame. [To herself] One of our best customers an’all.
*Title suggested by semi-anonymous reader Philip. Genius, and much better than all I had thought of.
Not very funny post-script 13/11/06. He's dead. Didn't make it throught the surgery. 28 years old. I don't know his name.