So, if you remember, I was at the till of a supermarket in a daze, after the cashier reprimanded me for not saying ‘please’ when she asked if I wanted a receipt.

No big deal, any reasonable person might conclude, and perhaps that’s correct, but I had been navigating a tricky, gloomy day and I must admit, I was affronted.

For a start, there were a lot of people at the tills and this confrontation had certainly garnered interest; the entertainment was about to begin, they hoped. The crowd also left me wondering about the adage that the customer is always right.

There were lots of customers, making this shop lots of money, and I was chief among them. The groceries I had purchased came to a hefty bill, though to be fair it included DOP olive oil, butter, prawns and a nice bottle of wine. I mustn’t have been too miserable, my mother would have said, with a booty like that.

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