Not cycled much in the last few weeks, mainly owing to laziness/weather /recalcitrance combo; glued to sofa, watching snooker, eating muesli.
Did go out, one time. Got rained on, heavily. Ran over thorn twig, got double puncture. Went to Halfords, bought new inner tubes; upmarket, latex-filled, self-repairing jobs. Best part of twenty quid for pair.
Left Halfords, nipped into Sainsburys for few things. Had made list of things on phone, so was popping phone in and out of phone’s usual home in left back pocket during consultative action.
Left Sainsburys, loaded with bags. Walked down High Road towards bus station in new downpour. Far enough down the road for it to be a bleeding nuisance, realised expensive inner tubes were still sat on the bloody till.
Returned to Sainsburys. Saw bag of tubes, picked it up over head of poor cow presently using that particular self-service till, waved at the bloke monitoring till so as to communicate in broken semaphore why charging in and, seemingly, stealing some other bugger’s shopping. Must happen, surely? Stealth gang disguised as shifty Eastern European types, rush in, lift bags, leg out again? Possibly not. Possibly just paranoia at re-entering supermarket with full bags. Maybe looked like reverse shopper, taking in full bags, putting items back on shelves, leaving empty-handed..
Buttoning coat against cold/wind, made automatic left-buttock-slapping, sub-Asda Price movement to check continued position of phone.
Phone not there.
Felt stomach flip gently as “oh fuck pocket’s been picked’ thought tah-dahs into front of mind. Some bastard has seen phone in hand as shopping list, has noted position of phone in left back pocket, has half-inched phone as bastards do.
Tapped left front pocket. Phone safe in there. Felt idiotic. Kept walking towards bus station.
Realised that during ‘oh fuck’ moment, had earphones in and had been listening to music played through phone.
Got on bus. Watched rain. Shook head.