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Cat food and drugs don't mix.



I worked in Co-Op as a Saturday boy back in 1971; I was the only ‘man’ in the shop. Well I say the only man; we had a manager but he was always off sick and his place was taken by the senior shop assistant.
One Saturday afternoon a man aged about 20 or so staggered into the shop and stood in the middle of the shop floor and scanned round the shop.  I watched him and knew that he was high on drink or drugs; in fact I sort of knew it was drugs as I had seen him come out of the Hippy commune at the top of Sach Road where I lived. He didn’t seem to be doing any harm so I went back out to the warehouse to get some sugar for shop floor.  The next thing I knew Flo a shop assistant was calling my name,
“David! Come here, David….”
I put down the case of sugar and went to see what Flo wanted. She was standing and pointing to the man who was holding a large tin of Kit E Kat. He was swaying on his feet and scrutinising the tin closely and then putting it under his jacket. He did this about three times as I watched him. He was totally oblivious to us watching him from about a yard away.
“He’s trying to steal it….” Flo said. “Stop him…”
It was obviously a man’s job to apprehend shoplifters.
I looked at the bloke and said,
“You need to pay for that mate.”
He looked at me and swayed unsteadily on his feet, I could see his pupils were like slits, I knew it was drugs now.
“You need to pay for that mate.” I said again.
Flo added,
“You need to pay…” and she tapped heavily and dramatically on the tin lid with its price label on the top.
The guy stared at us both looked round conspiratorially as though trying to see if anyone in authority was looking at him and said,
“Nah.” and winked as best he could.
He didn’t have a clue who we were despite me being in a long brown warehouse coat and Flo being in her pale green Co-Op overall. He put the tin under his coat again and winked again as if we were his best friend and co shoplifter.
“Nah.” He said again and took the tin from under his coat and looked at it closely again.
“Can you eat….” he slurred and stopped mid-sentence and looked at the tin closely again.
“Can you eat?” he slurred again.
“It’s cat food mate.” Flo and I said that almost in unison.
“I know.”  He said. We knew he didn’t know.
“I know it’s cat food….” He pointed to his mouth to imitate eating, “But can you eat?”
“You need to pay for it first to find out.” I said.
Flo went off to serve a lady who had just come in the shop. Flo kept glancing my way and then winked at me and nodded towards the bloke, as if to say ‘What an idiot’. The man swayed and scrutinised the tin again. It was as if he was hoping it would talk to him. Perhaps in his mind it did.
The bloke put the tin of cat food back in his coat, turned around and made his way to the door. I followed him. As he stepped into the fresh chilly air he went down like a sack of potatoes right in the shop entrance. I did my best to catch him to break his fall. The cat food rattled on the mosaic; he had taken two tins of it, I hadn’t noticed the other one. As he slumped to the ground he quickly grabbed at the tins and held on to them. Flo came down to the entrance and looked at the man.
“He’s not well is he?” she asked me and looked at the slumped body.
“Don’t look well at all.” I replied.
Flo went into the manager’s office and called an ambulance.
“Cat food…” the man half slurred and groaned “Cat food”
I tried to take them off him.
“Nah.” he said “Ssssssshhhh” he put his finger to lips and one tin of the cat food fell on the floor. I quickly picked it up and put it behind the shop door where he couldn’t see it.
“Nah.” He said apropos of nothing. “nah, cat food….Sssssshhh.” He looked up at me the best he could. I nodded.
The ambulance arrived and two burly blokes got out and walked over to us.
“Got a druggy have we?”
I just looked at the ambulance man and nodded towards the bloke on the floor. They knelt down next to him and took his pulse and looked in his eyes.
“You’re coming with us mate…” one of them said to the slumped Hippy.
“Nah.” He replied.
“Yeah” the ambulance driver said. “To hospital.”
“Nah, cat food.” The Hippy slurred again.
The two ambulance crew put their hands under his armpits and pulled him to his feet. The other tin of cat food clattered to the ground.
“Was he nicking that?” one of the ambulance crew asked.
“Yeah, he had another tin too.”
They both tutted and steadied the Hippy.
“Nah, cat food……I’ll have to eat me cat now….” He slurred as the crew took him aboard the ambulance.

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