Greek Men and Their Weird Cars No. 1
So, the car decides to break down in a supermarket car park and I can’t find anything wrong with it. While I wait for the repair man to arrive, I do a few sketches to pass the time. I wouldn’t mind so much, but the car was serviced yesterday. This puts me in a poor humor.
What strikes me as I wait is how miserable everyone looks as they come out of the supermarket: hurried, anxious, gloomy and generally not of a sunny disposition (just like me). It’s as if the supermarket has deadened the mood of everyone who passes through its doors. On the evidence of this lot, their bags stuffed with readymeals, buying food with the thought of lovingly preparing the evening’s dinner seems to be a national pastime that’s on the slide. Instead, food shopping has become reduced to a simple act of consumerism, another inconvenience to be busily dealt with as fast as possible.
Eventually, the car repair bloke arrives. I greet him with genuine relief and a bright, friendly smile. I’m soon out of there.