Fifth bus, with groceries. The shop was full of comfortably upper-middle class types* who are in desperate need of a smack. I did not smack anyone. Not even the bloke who turned his trolley to block the aisle before wandering off. His age bracket is entirely predictable.
If I hadn't tried to pay that bill I'd have been home hours ago and would not now be dreaming of vengeance. Sneaking around the south-eastern suburbs under cover of night supergluing houses shut, that sort of thing.
* See 'The Thick Of It' - "Upper-Classholes"