A large black man walks into the supermarket and shortly after starts shouting at someone. I ignore the shouts, but a couple of customers waiting in line watch him without any attempt to be discreet.
This goes on for a while, a shout here, a pause there, drawing silent onlookers, and then the man storms past my checkout with a blonde woman in tow. The blonde woman looks a little coked out and she is holding two plastic bags which are half-full and an enviro bag from our rival supermarket. As she passes between two security gates, the red lights flash and beeps ring out across the store.
The pair peer over their shoulder at the commotion but don’t stop to have their bags checked. In fact, they snicker as they continue walking away.
Gates still beeping, my eyes meet those of the operator in front of me. We look at each other with half smiles on our faces and shrug, deciding to take no action over the incident that has just transpired. The couple are too far away and besides, we have customers to serve.
Just then, on the rolling soundtrack, a recorded message plays. ‘Customers, in accordance with the conditions for entering the store, please allow your bags to be inspected. We thank you for your cooperation.’
I have seldom been witness to such great moments of irony.