There are two kinds of sharing.

And last Saturday.

I experienced both.

Sharing. Type One. 

The first kind of sharing is illustrated as follows.

I popped to ASDA.

And I bought 4 antibacterial sprays.

Then I popped to Poundstretcher.

And bought 2 more.

We don’t need 6.

So I asked our street’s Facebook group who wanted them.

And off the sprays went.

To their new homes.

Sharing. Type 2. 

On that very same Saturday.

Just as I entered Poundstretcher.

There was a Poundstretcher chap un-palleting kitchen roll.

And alongside him.

Following him like an attentive puppy.

There was a brilliantly enthusiastic Geordie guy in a tracksuit.

Talking ‘at’ him.

The tracksuit chap was berating eBay sellers.

The ones seeking a fiver for a toilet roll.

And that’s when the other kind of sharing took place.

As the entertaining Mr. Tracksuit shared the following.

At the top of his voice.

With most of the store:

I only ever have one shite a day, man.

Two at most.

And those cheeky bastards on eBay think I’m going to pay them a fucking fortune.

Just to wipe my arse!

Sharing is Caring?

I smiled.

Because whilst one type of sharing is caring.

The other.

Is actually born from not caring, it would seem.


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