Yesterday I smoked my last duty free cigarette. Not bad. I've been back about 12 days and for me to stretch 2 cartons over 12 days is evidence of remarkable restraint. Thus it was time to buy a carton at full price. Up I fronted at the local Stop'n'go.
You might remember this[^].
I had em trained! Odd pronunciation or not, they knew that when this old fart with long hair in a ponytail fronts up and says that string of strange sounding words he wants a particular brand of cigarette in carton form.
As if in order to illustrate the perversity of the universe there was, of course, a new, untrained, face. I'm not about to start assuming that someone aged 17 and a bit is automatically stupid so I launched into the usual spiel. 'G'day mate. I want a carton of blah blah'. Blank look. Ok, non-assumption possibly voided. Let's try it somewhat slower. Still didn't work. A third try that probably made me sound like someone from off the planet trying to enunciate English and it's still not working. Not a spark of comprehension.
So I pointed at the cigarette rack! There they are. Basic Ultra Light 100's. And all I want is a carton of the buggers. And, of course, we went through the same pantomime. Pack vs carton.
I'm going to print on an A4 sheet of paper my cigarette requirements and play mute from now on. Of course I'm sure the first pass won't work; they'll still reach down a pack.