Some people profess that they hate shopping and boast of zooming around a supermarket and doing all their weekly shopping in ten minutes flat – those people miss out on such a lot in life, as any sexy store security guard would be happy to tell you. A vocational store security guard has every reason to be passionate about his work; from his vantage point he can observe every customer entering the store, and follow them around the shop without even leaving his station. He may look as though he is doing nothing – daydreaming even – but he is very busy; he is a natural busybody. From his screen he watches, he assesses, he judges, and sometimes, he acts. And when there are no suspicious customers to pit his wits against, his eyes will still be roaming,from one camera view to another, watching you, and watching me (as I found out earlier today).

Now I rather like shopping, especially food shopping, not just because it’s nearly always lunchtime when we shop for our groceries (so I’m  famished) but also because I find supermarkets very sexy places. These days I rarely get asked out any more in supermarkets, not with Chris beside me – like me, he seems to enjoy shopping too. So why do we like shopping? Well, our favourite store, perhaps owing to cutbacks a few years ago, turned down the heating noticeably. Do we wear more clothing? Certainly not. Isn’t it cold? Yes and no; my mum puts on an extra scarf and jumper to go shopping whilst I remove  anything cumbersome. It may sound peculiar, but sometimes cold is hot (except by the frozen food cabinets where it really is frigid). I always insist on pushing the shopping trolley, hence both my hands are fully occupied as we walk along the aisles; normally we hold hands on walks, therefore, if Chris wants to connect with me in a physical way he has to put an arm around my waist. Sometimes he may have to squeeze by me to allow another customer passing room, in which instance he usually places both hands around my waist and presses closer. I feign surprise at his boldness and we laugh. We feel like we are in a secret bubble and nobody else can see us behaving like kids.

Today’s shopping expedition was no exception. We hugged, pressed against each other, pretended to be shocked, looked lovingly and smiled our way throughout the store. When we had paid at the checkout, Chris went off to locate and assist my mum with her shopping, and I walked on towards the exit. Craig, the sexy store security guard came up to me.

“Look over there, Sally,” he said, looking in the direction of a girl wearing a black leather jacket, a black mini-skirt, black tights and five-inch heels. Her legs were wonderfully long and shapely.

“My legs could look like that too,” I lied in mock indignation, “if I wore six-inch heels and lost a stone… or three.”

“I know,” he laughed, “I look at you, too, as you walk around the store.”

Craig smiled in a very knowing way and I thought of all the closeness in the aisles a little earlier when Chris and I thought no-one was looking…