How Not To Shop

I'm not one for blogging twice in a row, but I've got a free period and last night I experienced a very funny situation which needs to be commited to type (not as funny as the bus ride, but close.)
Wandering around the Lotte Mart, looking for things to put in my new fridge (and, it must be said, a slight erection) I went a bit overboard.
Those who know me will be thinking " yeah yeah, how much beer did you buy?" and the answer is: not much. I did buy a slab of water, a load of fruit, milk, orange juice and some snacky things, forgetting in my excitement that I had to walk home in what had begun to be a blizzard.
I'd also been for pizza and a few beers earlier, and was carrying the doggy box of pizza I didnt manage to finish. I'd left these wit the clerk at the front of the store and as I came bounding up the escalator with two huge bags and a load of water, he tried his utmost to help me carry them.
I tried to explain, as he walked towards the exit doors with my water pack and a pizza box oerched merrily atop it, that I dont have a car and he can leave them at the door. He nods and grins and steps out into the raging sleet storm in his shirtsleeves. I grab my umbrella and struggle to open it whilst holding onto the remaining two bags, then, in a moment of madness, I decide to play the wildcard.
Tucking the umbrella down my back, I create a hands-free sleet-beater. I then pick up the remaining bags and the water and am still miraculously dry. I look like Rayden's slightly retarded English cousin. The attendent isnt grinning quite so much now, he's utterly soaked and is still gingerly clutching my pizza box like a delivery boy who delivers to Atlantis, his face is screaming "take the pizza, you fucking shleb, I'm not even on overtime here!"
I reach forwards with one arm of shopping for him to put it in my bag and the shift in position means that the umbrella rockets out from my back as the wind gusts in from underneath me, it flies skyward and in that moment I realise that it will probably make it to Gangwon before it comes down.
The attendent and I look at each other and both collapse in gales of laughter, a truly international exchange has just happened as a result of my total inability to make myself initially understood. He points to the flash looking Hundai estate across the street and says "your car?"
I say "Yes" in a defeated sort of tone, and let him keep the pizza. I'd laughed with a Korean, which was good enough for me.