The British Bank Holiday is a notoriously slow news day. Unless an untoward sighting of a royal backside occurs, hapless journalists are tied to their telephones in half empty offices hoping for a story to emerge. If the sun is shining and their spouses are burying their children in sand on British beaches, the misery of their Babylonian captivity is heightened.
Many seem to like my recently published book on addiction. Here's what I often get: "Dr. Ferentzy offers an interesting and challenging perspective ..." In such cases I will thank someone for their kind words, but then quickly counter: everything I wrote in that book is true; perspective is irrelevant.
Anyway you're familiar with the supermarket routine, I'm sure. All fairly normal and not particularly weird. Although, to an alien race that do their shopping by inhaling consumables through their bottom nostrils, that situation would of course be weird. But to me at that moment everything was fairly normal. Until she started to ask questions. "How are you today?" she asked, smiling.