As someone that does occasionally enjoy a bandwagon, I’ve found that I’ve grown a particular fondness for people’s end of year ‘In’s & Out’s’. The ones I agree with can make me feel that I was ahead of the curve and correct all along. The ones I don’t agree with I can come to the clear conclusion that the person who said it should be killed, or at least maimed.
On my own list for something that was firmly in for 2026 I had ‘Ask questions’.
So I have been asking. Quite a lot.
Usually fairly mundane, like asking who did an illustration behind a cafe counter. Or asking someone to describe the sort of person that buys a particular perfume and why they think that is.
Though sometimes a more casual line of questioning gets people talking and then I can ask more probing questions, like if they’ve had a favourite shoplifter and who would play them in a film.
At a small local vegan supermarket, I learnt that a man earlier than day had come in completely covered in blood and paced round the aisles before approaching the counter and gently asking “Where can I find the olive oil?”. The staff suggested that instead, maybe they could call an ambulance - a question to which he let out a guttural scream and left the shop.
Would I have learnt about a man covered in blood who really wanted olive oil if I’d just bought overpriced miso soup and left? I don’t think I would. So it can be a really wonderful things to engage with people in your day to day, not just for the joy of giving some human interaction - but so you can selfishly exploit what they tell you, for your own benefit.
So I thought as a writing exercise for myself, as well as possible entertainment for your eyes - If I learn something that sticks with me, I’d get it down for here. Possibly very short, but it’s a nice something to read eh? So why not have something to distract us from the ever growing death, war, disease and corruption.
Things I Have Learnt This Week By Asking Questions #1
When purchasing some packets of microwave rice, because who has the time to actually cook it properly and cost effectively - I decided I’d had enough of dealing with technology, had some cash on me and wanted to interact with an actual person.
In this particular shop, the only people who don’t use the self service are either paying by cash or need something behind the counter - booze, cigs or scratch cards. Considering the area of Brighton I live in, the queue is usually fairly lengthy and packed with a glorious variety of the grizzled, dishevelled and weathered.
When I get to the front of the queue there’s a tiny red haired woman in a thin strapped loose fabric top, wobbling from side to side, wailing….
‘BUT WHYYYYYY’
“10 at a time, that’s the law”
“BUT WHYYYYYYYYYYYY”
“I’ve told you, I can’t sell you any more”
“BUUUUUT WHYYYYYYYYYY”
“It’s the law, I’m sorry”
“BUUUUUUUT WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY”
“You can only get 10 at a time, we’ve been over this”
“So if I leave… I can have more?”
“Technically, yes”
And the woman turns, using the counters for balance - leads herself cackling quietly to the door of the shop, her unsettling laughter growing ever quieter as she leaves - then volume returns as she makes her way back to the queue. A fistful of lottery tickets grasped in her withered hand. Her horrid little cackle growing ever closer.
My turn was up, and as the young man behind the counter scanned my terribly convenient rice pots I asked what can you only get 10 of. Turns out, lottery tickets.
It also turns out that this woman had been doing this on loop and does so often. Having to have the rule of 10 tickets explained each time. Leaving the shop and coming back in, with the misplaced confidence of someone who thinks they’ve managed to trick someone by putting on a plastic nose and glasses.
“Does this happen a lot?” I ask.
“Far more often than you’d ever think possible” he replies, sighing.
Sighing and looking behind me to see she’s right there again and ready for another round of tickets. The cycle continues. Fuelled by what I assume is just the pure love of the game.
Portrait Of A Lottery Woman by Joe Black. Watercolour

