Baby Change

I suddenly ran out of avocados and coriander this morning. Unfortunately, so, too, had the local Waitrose and so, tragically, I had to go to Tesco's in order to source them. Needs must. However, so as not to demean myself totally, I decided to take a piss while I was in there, as well. While preparing to do so, I caught sight of a sign on the lavatory door: "Baby change facilities." This concept appealed to my curiosity, so I decided to hang around for a while and watch someone do it.

I didn't have to wait long. Within a few minutes, a woman came along with a baby which she duly took into this so-designated lavatory. But - and here's the curious thing - when she came out a short while later, she had with her (as far as I could tell, at least) exactly the same baby that she'd taken in. In other words she hadn't bothered changing it all all.

Thinking about it, I found it odd that anyone would actually want to do this in the first place, especially in a lavatory. What's the point, anyway? In my experience, all babies look the same, so taking one in there, offloading him (maybe you flush the used one away), and getting a replacement seems hardly worth the effort. Unless, I suppose, you're some sort of kiddie fiddler who's got bored with the current whelp and therefore requires a substitute to provide variety. But I don't believe Tesco's should be encouraging this sort of thing. Then again, maybe they're working in league with the authorities to help catch paedophiles. Therefore the sign "Baby change facilities" is in fact a sort of sting operation, in much the same way as, say, a shop on the high-street with the sign "Fence you stolen goods here" might help trap burglars.

There is another possibility, of course. When I purchase items in a shop and don't have the exact amount - let's say I'm buying a replacement Kurt Geiger coat which is priced at £750, but only happen to have £1000 on me - I give the shopkeeper more than label price, then he in turn gives me the difference, aka "change". So it's conceivable that, along similar lines, Tesco's is running some sort of slave trading operation. If you've got, for example, a fully trained house slave whom you want to swap for one you can use on your cotton plantation, it's obvious that there's going to be a certain disparity between the two. Consequently, to remedy this, one of the slave traders makes up the difference in small currency: "Baby change."

With this in mind, I may collect some loose change today - some of those babies that Working Class women are always pushing around in the supermarket, for instance. They have so many that they obviously won't miss a few. I reckon if I get five or six of them, I ought to be able to trade them for a luscious, full-busted 20 year old sex slave.