A pirate's life of cheese

Ms F lives locally to where I work. Unfortunately, she isn't able to carry some of the heavier items of her grocery shopping home, and so GoodGym were asked to help.

I called Ms F as I was leaving work to provide her with an ETA, and to receive some initial clarifications on the shopping list she had prepared for me. Forewarned being forearmed, I mentally prepared myself to ask for produce from the fish and cheese counters, and completely forgot to mentally prepare myself for the stairs up to Ms P's appartment. Luckily, everything after the third flight is a little hazy, and so my lack of preparation was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

I collected the finalised list from Ms F, took a few pictures of some of the items she wanted me to take particular note of, and ventured into Waitrose to start my hunt for Ms F's groceries.

Relegating the 6 pack of large-ish water bottles on the list to the back of the list, I instead fixated on the intriguingly named Cornish Yarg. Most of my time during this task was spent wondering whether Cornish Yarg is a cheese that's particularly favoured by West Country pirates, whether said West Country pirates would ask the counter staff for "yaaarrrrggh", and what would be the best names for said pirates (my favourites being Captain Black-brie-ard, Long John Stilton, and Monterey Jack Sparrow). [I will be completely honest here and say that a long wait at the cheese counter might account for the cheesy-pirate fixation.]

I returned to Ms F with her bounty, ultimately opting to re-attempt the stairs because: a) It was too late in the day to operate the heavy machinery of the lift (which appeared to be a cross between a service elevator and a dumbwaiter); and b) I really had forgotten how the infinite stairs felt the first time round 🤷🏼‍♀️ I handed over the groceries and change to Ms F, who crossed my palm with a silvered (foil wrapped) chocolate as a thank you, and we made our goodbyes.