The Gin Incident

 When the R number soared at the end of October, I booked in a series of online shops. 

For each one I put in a placeholder order of a high-value item which takes me over the £40 limit needed to get a delivery.

A couple of days before the delivery I go in and remove the high-value item and put in the list of what we really need.

What could possibly go wrong?

Now my high-value item of choice just happens to be three bottles of gin.  Doesn’t really matter which gin as I’m going to take it off the order. 

I had idly thought that the profile derived from my shopping habits would portray me as an acute alcoholic, purchasing three large bottles of spirits each week.

This Monday, when the doorbell rang, I went to receive my supermarket order from the young delivery man.

“Good morning.  Would you mind taking it through to the….”

The words died on my lips. 

At my feet was only one crate.

In the crate were three large bottles of gin.

“This isn’t my order!”

The young man smirked.  He had heard it all before. 

In retrospect, I gave in too quickly.  I should have insisted on seeing the paperwork or asked that he take it back.  But I knew deep down that it was my mistake – I had amended the wrong order.

Looking around nervously in case any of the neighbours was about, I grabbed my haul of gin and retreated indoors, clanking.

My shopping will come next week.  At least the gin will make the wait pleasant.