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I chose the wrong cashier. I could hear him from 4 people back, telling each customer he was serving that he hadn’t found the right man to love. To shout such things out in front of complete strangers …well it’s too open, it’s not the English way. You may not have found the right lover, but for God’s sake, is it really something you should be telling an old man that’s buying toilet rolls and grapes?

He carried on shouting about his sex life, at double speed, to each new person. It seemed to me that he got somekind of titillation out of forcing each person he served to listen to his sex stories . I got really anxious as I drew closer and closer to his horrible, chicken like arms and filthy whore mouth. The arms clawing each food item, scanning it and throwing it aside. Horrible fucking beast, I don’t want a conversation with you. I don’t want any part of your sexual dialogue.

And there I was, stood before him….”Do you want me to serve you slow, medium, or fast?” he asked. I accidentally looked at his crotch, my eyes lingered in panic. I looked up and he was looking into my eyes and smiling. “I’ll take it that’s a slow” he said. I said nothing. He then raped me with his words.