The knock at the door

So I'm standing in the kitchen after getting home from work and I've just dunked a chocolate digestive in a cup of tea when there's a knock at the door.

My door never goes. Well, not never, but rare enough that it's the next best thing.

I open the door with the nearly finished biscuit still in my hand and discover a woman standing there with a clipboard and automatically I'm thinking "charity" while preparing my excuses for not signing up to a regular direct debit.

"Mrs Thompson?" she asks in a strangely quiet voice and I'm thrown for a second while I try to remember if that's the same person that Scottish Power have been sending bills to at my address.

It takes me a second but I realise I'm in the clear at least as much as Scottish Power are concerned so I say "Yes, I'm Mrs Thompson..." and look at her quizically for just long enough to be awkward for her before saying "Nah, I'm just fucking with you, there's no-one here by that name!".

Gregg's Macaroni Pies - No sympathy

I have zero sympathy for people who are unhappy at Gregg's doing away with their macaroni pies because Gregg's have been doing this to me for years and not one of you thought to start a petition to save the maple and pecan swirl, the caramel and pecan shortcake (there's a pecan pattern developing here) or the third thing whose removal upset me - not enough to remember what it was but enough to remain bitter about.

With all that being said, allow me to paraphrase Martin Niemöller here...

First they came for the caramel and pecan shortcake, and I did not speak out—
Because I did not like caramel and pecan shortcake.

Then they came for the maple and pecan swirls, and I did not speak out—
Because I did not like maple and pecan swirls.

Then they came for something else, and I did not speak out—
Because I didn't know what it was.

Then they came for the macaroni pies —and there was no one left to speak for me.