Lockdown is making a criminal of me

‘Have you had your jab, Margery?’ said one Surrey lady to another in the queue for take-away coffee at the chintzy, shabby chic coffee shop.

‘Oh yes, I’ve had it for my country,’ said her friend. ‘I just can’t understand these people who won’t have the jab. I mean, how selfish…’

I looked at them and they looked at me, pointedly, because they had decided what sort of person I was thanks to the altercation we had all just had.

‘Margery, are you feeling all right after your jab?’ said one to the other, more quietly. ‘Well, now you ask, no, I’ve been rather ill for two weeks now. I’m sure it’s nothing.’

‘Yes, I feel dreadful too. I’m sure it’s nothing.’ Suffice to say that this pair had just been so rude to me I thought: ‘Well, you’re serving your country, so shut up and enjoy it.’

If they don’t end this lockdown soon, I am going to be arrested for affray. I’ve already been cautioned for not having an MOT, because of the darn Covid MOT extension which made me then forget it completely. Because that’s criminal, I presume I can’t now run away to America. Lockdown is making a hardened offender of me.

Next I fear some kind of punch-up resulting in me being led away in handcuffs from the bakery, or the shabby chic café.

In the bakery, they don’t seem to like any more than two customers at a time, so we all queue round the block, Soviet Russia-style, which is why I didn’t question the queue outside the shabby chic café opposite the bakery. I had just got to the front when the two obnoxious Surrey battleaxes swept past me.