The watching game

My wife thinks I've been converted into an enthusiastic shopping companion, but she's wrong.
I can, however, understand her misreading my readiness to join her on her weekly pilgrimages to the big supermarket a few miles up the road from our place.
It isn't the shopping that appeals, it's the people I see who make the trip worthwhile!
Our area has an unusually wide range of residents. There are Vietnamese market gardeners, "hordes" of immigrants from the UK, descendents of the German families who inspired and maintain much of our wine and grape growing industries, farmers, soldiers from the nearby Army base, and the gamut of "traditional" Aussies - from the unemployed to the wealthy.
What an interesting passing parade for the idle watcher!
Today was the first day of school holidays, and the shopping centre was awash with teenagers - all dressed to celebrate and demonstrate their rediscovered "freedom". Teenage boys mooch past under tousled hair, clad in torn jeans, thongs and confronting T shirts, and they're in startling contrast to the girls. Who could imagine these strutting, heavily made up and giggling fashion interpreters as yesterday's demure, uniformed students?
The kids will be gone next week, leaving the Mums and Dads and their tiny tots, the shift workers, the down-and-outs, and the oldies like us.
There's always plenty to stir my imagination on shopping day.
And then, of course, there's helping with the shopping.