When I arrived at the office this morning - in Northampton - I found my access card wasn’t authorised to let me in. A quick phone call to the security people told me that I’d have a bit of a wait before it could be sorted, so I went off in search of some tea and toast.

A short drive down the road and I happened across two supermarkets, next door to each other. The first was a branch of the decidedly pikey Asda store. Next to it was it’s antithesis: the somewhat upmarket Waitrose. I placed my vehicle in the car park of the former (because I drove into the wrong entrance) and then walked across to the latter. Of course.

The cafeteria didn’t do toast - possibly considered too downmarket for its clientele - and so I sat down at a table with my pot of tea and a fruit scone.

At the table next to me, two people - a man and a woman - were having an argument. This being Waitrose though, their heated exchange hardly rose above a barely audible whisper.

With my mid-morning ripast over,  I made my way back to the car.

In Asda’s car park, were two men, locked together in some sort of wrestling hold, rolling about on the ground amongst the spilled contents of an upturned trolley. As they grappled with each other, various expletives rent the air. People walked past, giving them a wide berth. I did likewise.

To quote Stephen Fry (sort of): “That’s the good thing about Asda… it keeps the scum out of Waitrose.”