The very British Anxiety of Supermarket Shopping

by Hyper Homo 5 days ago in anxiety

The worst day of my life. A very gay, British story.

The very British Anxiety of Supermarket Shopping
How I almost caught Coronavirus. This is a medically accurate drawing.

I am a very anxious person.

Cigarettes are not cool.

You can see by my eyebrows. They are very anxious eyebrows. They show my deep sense of fear, and are awfully bushy - a tint and thread is due.

It was a late Thursday afternoon and I made the very poor choice of visiting my local supermarket. I am a young, hungry gay man. I can't feed myself on just penis and episodes of KUWTK. We are in the midst of a pandemic, and so you have to queue to get into supermarkets, which only exacerbates my already horrendous anxiety disorder. It is like being surrounded by a pack of fierce hyenas, just waiting to maul your eyeballs out.

This is me, stood in the queue.

I was filled with rage.

Most people were just waiting patiently, minding their own business, effortlessly avoiding eye contact with everyone around them, yet I could sense they were looking slyly, as if they had a digital ruler embedded in their brain, measuring the distance between them and everyone else, but not me.

As I stood there, chain smoking cigarettes and listening to Doja Cat on repeat to try and calm my growing nerves, there was a man behind me, who was obnoxiously coughing due to the cigarette smoke that was likely blowing back in his face.

Given the severity of the pandemic we are in, I freaked out that he was coughing. I was completely oblivious to the cloud of smoke that was surrounding us, like sex-deprived gentlemen at an orgy. I could just visualise the Coronavirus particles in the air, mocking me, trying to find a way into my body. Men trying to find their way into my body, yes. A life-threatening virus trying to find it's way into my body, no.

Thankfully, moments after I was gang-banged by Coronavirus particles, the security man at the door said I was allowed inside. I've never ran so fast... well, I've never ran in my life and I can't run to save my life so I sort of galloped inside, like a startled stallion. I'm not sure what a startled stallion would look like, so I'll leave you all to imagine it.

I started shopping as normal, picking up all the basic essentials - condoms, lube, preparation H and tomatoes. Tomatoes are good for the skin. It was whilst I was looking at the gin section that I noticed something... a droplet of sweat dripped from my forehead and onto the ground.

That was just the mere beginning of my downfall in Aisle 7. I felt hot, I felt sweaty. Yes it was 25 degrees outside, but in British terms, anything about 15 degrees, we would consider a package holiday at home. I almost felt like I couldn't breathe and I did not know what to do. I couldn't ask the man who was stocking the granola bars, he would think I was infected with the virus and would probably have me thrown into a deep quarantine device, which I'm sure is kept in the back of all supermarkets.

I had to think on my feet.

Nothing came to mind. Then, I saw coughing Chris again, coming down the aisle.

It was as if the devil had taken over a human body and he was following me. I stood as far back as I could, almost guarding the vast array of gin's. I WILL PROTECT YOU!

This was it. The end of my life. I couldn't believe that it was all over, no more sleezy hook-up's, no more hours of douching, no more pretending to be a vers bottom... my life was over.

Then...

He walked straight past me.

It felt like I had seen someone I had hooked-up with and swore to never speak to again, but it wasn't. It was just a man with a cough. Besides the point, I thought he was going to kill me and he has the AUDACITY to just walk past me and not even give me a second look...

Instead of just letting it go, I decided to reach out to the man, whilst maintaining a 2 metre distance. Now, I'm no Reed Richards but my arm doesn't stretch 2 metres, so at the top of my seemingly under-developed, somewhat feminine voice, I shouted.

Me: Excuse me sir!

How dare he play dumb? I know how all types of men operate and after he nearly killed me, I was not about to let this one go. He knew exactly what he did.

Me: Yes you.

Him: Can I help you?

Me: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? COUGHING NEAR ME IN THE QUEUE WHEN WE ARE IN THE MIDST OF A GLOBAL PANDEMIC. YOU ARE SO SELFISH. I HATE YOU.

Me: YEAH THAT'S RIGHT YOU TRY AND LOOK ALL CONFUSED AND ACT LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID. I AM OVER IT, I AM LEAVING THIS STORE AND I AM NEVER COMING BACK.

I then proceeded to leave my trolley full of shopping in the middle of the aisle and march to the exit. To make it extra known that I was angry, I didn't even follow the markings on the floor. Does this make me a bad boy gay? I think so.

I think it's fair to say, I handled the situation pretty well.

anxiety
Hyper Homo
Hyper Homo
Read next: Never In the Cover of Night
Hyper Homo

A webcomic detailing the very British life of a young gay man, who overindulges in cigarettes and cups of tea.

See all posts by Hyper Homo