On the way home from seeing my Mummy, I popped into Birds at the Oakwood Precinct as I fancied some of their sausage rolls.
The girl who served me was around 5″2′, nineteen, maybe twenty and quiet. Not in an unfriendly manner, just reserved.
My first job was on a till, I know how much customers can make you feel invisible, irrelevant.
So, I asked her:
“How’s your day going?”
“Oh, not too bad,” she replied, “But this weather is mad – one minute hot, next minute cold and it’s October!”
“That’s climate change for ya!” was my very poor attempt at some banter.
She looked at me with a face full of worry well past her years and said:
“It makes me not want to have children. Why would you bring children into a world like this?”
My heart broke. It really did.
“I’m really sorry my generation did nothing and our parents did nothing. I’m sorry your generation have to deal with this shit.”
We could both tell we’d perhaps gone too real in what was meant to be meaningless shop chitchat.
She did a brave smile, “That’s okay… Umm… did you want a receipt?”
“No, it’s okay. You have a good day.”