Barter Town

We chance into Barter Town's local supermarket this afternoon to get some victuals. This is always risky when the weather is wet as, more often than not, the residuum also call in - presumably because they have nothing else to do.

We resolve to do a trolley dash before those members of the non-working class we've met through our day jobs catch sight of us. Alas, we fail before we reach the end of the first aisle. We bump into an extended family of Troglodytes pushing two big shopping trollies.

Each has a noisy Trog child perched on the front end like a church gargoyle and each is pushed by an even bigger and uglier pubescent Trog who has learned to walk erect. The whole family are dressed in 'track-suit' style clothing that fails to conceal their Homer [Simpson]esque physiques. Sweaty and bloated, it occurs to me that none of them have done any physical exercise in a long time: they wobble as they shuffle along.

Whilst philanthropy is a wonderful thing I try not to dwell on how our tax contributions have kept this tribe stocked up with alcohol, cigarettes, fast food and satellite television over the years. From the number of Trog-spawn here it seems the satellite television wasn't enough of a distraction to stem the urge to breed. We do our best to avoid them and make our way out of the store. As we do, another tribe of Australopithecine's spill out of a people carrier shrieking and swearing. I know why it is we try to avoid Barter Town on wet days.