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Had to go out for a rubbish dump run and decided – fuck it – I’d also make a quick trip to the supermarket (last one had been ten days previously). As I’ve said before, these days it feels like I’m dodging bullets at the supermarket, even though they are giving us plastic gloves while we’re there and (most) people now know to stay a hockey stick apart. But I just “needed” (okay, wanted) a few fresh things.
Anyhow, as soon as I hit the street with my trolley and a few bags of rubbish my street guy Nico (yep he’s still out there every day) saw me and came rushing over. At first I thought he was going to ask for some money, and nothing wrong with that, but he actually asked if he could help me carry my rubbish to the bins. Awwww… well obviously for money but at least he wanted to “work” for it. Let’s just say that Nico doesn’t really get the “keep two metres away” thing so I thanked him, said I was fine, and that I’d see him on my way home from shopping, after I’d had time to sort out some cash for him.
Noticed that El Corte Inglés is even more vigilent these days, or else it was a busier time of day than last time, as there was a queue outside with everyone standing 2 metres apart. When it was my turn I went in, started shopping and then started to cry. Maybe in part because such a “normal” routine had become, well, what it is now. But it actually started after I bought some swordfish from the fish guy, who was so lovely and pleasant. And I looked around and saw all the staff stocking shelves and being helpful and I looked at all the fresh produce still available and that’s when I lost it.

Victor & me at the end of a spectacular day
