He ran up to the check-out line with nine pounds of butter and a turnip in his arms. 
 
In what seemed a panic he tossed the items on to the belt and shook his arms as if he were a prize fighter about to face down his opponent at center ring. 
 
"No-one can accuse you of forgetting the butter this time," I said to the twitchy stranger. 
 
He gave me a look to suggest that I'd landed closer to a secret than I knew.