There was a skanky woman in front of me getting served. Let me describe:
- Creole ear-rings
- A head full of split ends
- Electric-blue eye-liner and mascara
- Marble-washed denims with sequins on the back pocket (most of which had fallen off)
- Flip-flops
- Green toe-nails, like those you see on adverts for fungal nail infections - the ones they show when you're having your tea...you know the ones?
She was buying her own body weight in cheap lager (Holsten Pils rip-off brand) and tinned stuff. Oh, there was a swede as well. The vegetable variety, not the European sort.
Anyway, I got served, picked up my purchases and went to the car - walking a bit like Daniel Day-Lewis in 'My Left Foot', what with this fucking wound on my hip.
Imagine my surprise when this woman got into a taxi and her 'friend' in the front seat was that vertically-challenged Mackem woman who went on 'Come Dine With Me' and had the most hideous house - SAFC-themed formica bar in her front room, the whole house done out in red and white. She didn't win, as I recall. Small world.
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