The buzzer sounds again, 'What next?'
I head to the front of the shop, looking vexed.
Denise shakes her head, without a smile,
And nods towards the beer aisle.
I turn the corner and don't like what I see,
It's the Mucky man staring back at me.
He picks out the most expensive wine,
I know I'll have trouble from this dirty swine.
'It's Sunday hours,' I try to implore,
He just smiles and chooses to ignore.
He walks towards me, the bottle swinging around,
I take a cautious step back, but hold my ground.
He holds the wine for all to see,
I ask him to pay, he grins, 'try and make me.'
I follow him to the door unsure of what I'll meet,
And watch him dancing down the street.
Inside the shop we sigh with relief,
And discuss the exploits of this thief.
We start to tell a woman what he's done,
When we realise he is far from gone.
Back in the shop he starts to rant,
Unintelligible words he starts to chant.
Standing tall, I try to be bold,
As his aggression takes a hold.
Remaining customers back away,
As he head-butts our best display.
Tiring of this he leaves with a shout,
I run with my keys and lock him out.
Everything I've written is very true,
It's exactly how it happened, I can assure you.