The Yorkshire Vet: Supermarket forces caught me out - Julian Norton
My day started badly. I had been invited to perform the official opening of a new supermarket in Ripon. I was quite excited about the idea of opening a supermarket. It seemed a significant thing to do, so I pledged to arrive before eight in the morning to cut the ribbon. I’d be slightly pushed for time but felt confident I’d be able to get back for my first consultation at nine. However, I’d underestimated the time it would take to drive from Thirsk to Ripon on a snowy morning when all cars were moving quite slowly.
I kept checking my watch and realised, as I travelled through Baldersby, that I would be late. For some events, being a few minutes behind schedule doesn’t matter too much. Crickey, I’d spent most of my veterinary career turning up ten minutes after I was expected, so this had largely become the norm. But then I started to picture the scene. There would surely be a crowd of enthusiastic shoppers, clamouring to grab a basket and avail themselves of the delights of the new store.
I pulled into the busy carpark with a small screech and managed to find a parking space, ignoring the fact that the sign suggested the spot was for a mother and a child. I’d only be here for a few minutes, I told myself. Quickly, reality dawned as I realised that the supermarket was already filled with shoppers. Some were even at the checkouts. I found the most obvious and official-looking person near the entrance, introduced myself and apologised. This person appeared confused and wasn’t very helpful. The next official wore a smile and a badge on a lanyard and was obviously much more senior. I explained my reason for being at the supermarket and offered more apologies. This person also shrugged and gestured inside. Eventually, I found someone who could help. They gave me a quick but thorough tour of the insides, including the new fruit and veg section and eventually I found Annette, who had “booked” me.
“We decided we couldn’t wait,” she explained. “There were so many people waiting.” I nodded in sympathy. Some photos were taken, which I hoped would make my journey at least slightly helpful, but I couldn’t hang around for long because there would also be people waiting at the surgery.
The following week, I had another appointment which I hoped would make up for my supermarket disappointment. It was also a first, because I’d been asked to… wait for it…bury a time capsule. This unusual event was to celebrate the tenth anniversary of a care home in Knaresborough. For reasons similar to me agreeing to (try to) do the supermarket thing, I found myself accepting the invitation- I’d never buried a time capsule before. And the organiser explained that many of the residents were big fans of The Yorkshire Vet. I arranged to call after work, confirming in detail that it would definitely be after four thirty and maybe later, depending on traffic and veterinary issues. But even if I was late, I felt sure that this particular event could be delayed for a few minutes.
This time there were no problems though, and I soon found myself clasping a metal tube, sealed with bolts at either end. It looked like something the villain might try to steal in a James Bond film. I suggested a label was applied to the outside so that, when it was discovered sometime in the future, it was not blown up as a suspicious object. But it was too late for last minute labels and I lowered it into the allotted hole. Thankfully this job was many times more successful than the previous week.