Don’t Give Her A Token Of Your Kindness

I drive a little convertible sports car that I bought a few years ago, second hand, thanks to a small inheritance. It’s not a high-end brand or anything, but it’s my pride and joy, the sort of car I never thought I’d be able to afford. Unfortunately, it’s not very cheap to run, but with careful monthly budgeting, I am able to afford to keep and run it reasonably easily, alongside all the usual household bills and life expenses.

One of the ways I keep within my means is by shopping in a discount supermarket. I am going through some other life changes and temporarily living in a kind of rough area of the city. It doesn’t bother me; everyone I’ve met here is lovely and I’ve never seen much in the way of trouble, despite the reputation the area has.

That is, until I meet Pyjama Lady.

It’s early afternoon during the week, so the supermarket is blissfully quiet. I had a half-day from work, so I am in office dress, which means heels, so my feet are starting to ache. I have done my shopping and loaded the car, and I’m returning my shopping trolley to the park. I’m more than ready to go home, release my feet from their prison, and have a nice cup of tea.

In this supermarket, they have the £1 release mechanisms, but because I never seem to have change on me, I have one of those charity tokens that are the same size as a £1 coin to get the trolley with.

I am about halfway between my car and the trolley park when I hear a screechy, “Excuse me, luv!” I look up to see a lady around forty years old, dressed in actual pyjamas, a bomber jacket, and Ugg boots, bearing down on me from across the car park. I stop in my tracks.

Pyjama Lady: “Excuse me! Luv! Wait a second!”

I wait for her to reach me and just stand there looking at her expectantly, at a bit of a loss for words at the sight.

Pyjama Lady: *Grinning like an idiot* “All right, luv? If I give you two 50ps, can I have your trolley? I haven’t got a pound coin on me!” 

Me: “Sorry, I would, but I’ve used a token.”

I smile at her and shrug apologetically. I go to move off but she puts her hand on my trolley and stops me.

Pyjama Lady: *Still grinning* “That’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Me: “Sorry, but I want the token back.”

Pyjama Lady: *Less smiley* “What for? It’s not like you can spend it.”

Me: “Because I bought it and it cost me more than a pound? If you go inside, I’m sure they will change your 50ps for you.”

Pyjama Lady then actually stamps her feet, her hands balled up in fists like a petulant child, and wails.

Pyjama Lady: “But I don’t want to! Just give me yours!”

I shake my head at her in disbelief and go to move off again, but she grabs my trolley and yanks it towards her.

Me: “Let go! Just go inside and get a coin!”

Pyjama Lady: *Screeching* “Selfish f****** cow! It’s just a bloody pound! It’s not like you can’t f****** afford it; you don’t even need to shop here if you can drive a fancy f****** car like that around! YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE!”

And with that, she stomps off, phone in hand, frantically texting. I think that’s it and, after watching her go around the corner of the shop, I finally make the rest of the way to the trolley park and retrieve my token.

I turn to go back to my car and, lo and behold, there she is again, standing right next to my car! I start to jog over, mentally preparing for whatever may happen, and as I get closer, I see that she is leaning on the door, cigarette in hand, an evil grin on her face.

Me: “Excuse me, what are you doing?!”

Pyjama Lady: “You have no f****** business being here, fancy b**** in your fancy car! F*** off back to Waitrose where you belong, c***!“

And with that, she PUTS HER CIGARETTE OUT ON MY CAR BONNET! I am so shocked that I just stand there, frozen, and she just walks off with a smug grin.

The supermarket was no help; their CCTV just covers the front of the shop and, while they were sympathetic, they just repeated the mantra that “cars are parked at your own risk.” Luckily, I have a dashcam with a parking mode, so even when I’m not driving, it records footage. I took it to the police, as there was a lovely shot of her face peering through all my windows while I was shopping, not to mention a clear view of her cigarette antics later.

I ended up having to get my entire bonnet resprayed — my insurance paid — and she ended up with a community service order along with the cost of my insurance excess, court fees, and a fine. All over a trolley coin.