Stop off at the bakers on the way home.

Already scanning the shelves as I walk in the door I see nothing of any use to me behind the glass, it is late on a Saturday afternoon, stocks may be low.

“Can I help you?”
“Yes, do you have…”
Eyes dart to the right where I spy a rack of Belgian Buns.
“That. That. That’s exactly what I want, one of those please”
Point, point, point. Point.

“That’s the most enthusiastic asking for a bun I’ve ever heard”

Consider explaining that I’ve been thinking about this bun for the last 15 miles, hallucinating even. And it may just get me home. Maybe. And if there weren’t any buns I’d have been rocking gently in the corner, crying.

Just smile sweetly and pay.

“Would you like that in a bag?”
“No need”