Morphing into what?

It was lovely and sunny today but the autumn has brought a chilling breeze. Brrrrr, I wandered around Lewisham and sauntered into the Pound Shop. It has a magnetic pull and as far as any attempt I make not to go into these sub pound places their pull is stronger than my desire to stay away. Like the Innovation catalogue that falls out of the Sunday paper they are brimmed full of things that I do not want but since they are so cheap I think well it wont hurt if I have it. I end up spending £20 on twenty things I hide in the kitchen cupboard that go in the category, could be useful in the future, but they never are. Time comes when I decide to do a bit of spring cleaning. Suddenly I eventually come across the accumulation of these Pound shop purchases and like Tony Robinson in Time Team I spend far too much time wondering over these bits of sub pound detritus. Its like a Squirrel and its nuts. Talking about nuts while I was browsing the multitude of bits and pieces, a family were acting out lets shout at each other at the top of our voices. Suddenly the mother of this vocal tribe started screaming at what appeared to be her eldest son and began franticly hitting him. She stormed out of the shop. The Pound shop spell had been broken. I looked at the boy and he had gone from naughty mirth to a lost boy crying. Luckily his siblings surrounded him swearing blue murder about their mother. For once I did not buy anything. I was amazed at how many people were wandering around today and were all around the places I wanted to be. This became an annoyance.. I think the older I get I dislike crowds or rather being in crowds. I wonder why? Is it because they walk so slowly or is it because I am morphing into an old git?