Out of Date

It was one minute to eight, and the clock was ticking. I was standing outside the Countdown Metro, a mini-supermarket in Albert St in the CBD. There were some other people waiting, too. Time was short. I had five minutes to get in, buy something, and dash across the road to catch the bus home. They only come every half hour, five past and twenty-five to, and if I missed this one, I’d have time on my hands and nothing to do for thirty minutes.

The doors were still closed, but I could see what I wanted just inside the door. When the doors opened on the dot of eight, I hurried in, picked up the newspaper from the stand, paid and left.

Waiting at the lights, I could see the number 106 also waiting at the stop on the other side of the road. I was saying in my head, Come on! Come on!, willing them to change, and they did. I made it across, hopped on, sat down, and headed home. Job done.

Some people read the sports pages first, others business. Me, I always turn to the crosswords. But when I read the first clue, I thought it looked familiar. Then I read the next one and the next one, and I had the same feeling. Then it hit me!

I turned to the front page, looked at the date, and saw that it was yesterday’s paper! Because it was so early, the supermarket hadn’t put out today’s paper yet, and because I was in such a rush, I hadn’t checked.

Well, you can imagine what I said, but being angry doesn’t change anything. I had to think of a way to fix things. I didn’t want to wait for another bus into the city or walk there, and then it hit me.

There’s another Countdown in Ponsonby close to my house, so I walked there with yesterday’s NZ Herald under my arm. I explained to a nice lady what had happened. She listened, took yesterday’s paper off me, gave me today’s, no questions asked. Now that’s service with a smile!