How Creative Is Too Creative?

Scenario:

We are on a mission. We're on a specific mission around the nearest town. He has a list. There are three things to get. In three separate parts of town. And it's market day. Which is a bit like Sundae Sunday at Fat Camp.

So. I'm briefed on our plan of attack. First stop - newsagent. Then on to chemist and then around the block to buy ice cream and loop back home. Get in, get the goods, get the fuck out. Suits me perfectly.

Strangely enough, there is no parking outside the newsagent, so the next two items are accomplished first with yours truly double parked and receiving lascivious stares from policemen issuing parking fines. Items 2 and 3 done.

With all the ins and outs I cheerfully suggest that we now double park outside the newsagent and I run in and grab whatever magazine it is that is required. No thank you, I am told. I know what I'm looking for. Fine. Mr Secretive.

Double park for the umpteenth gazillionth time and off he trots. Start to mull magazine conversation over. Eyes begin to look like dinner plates. Jaw drops onto steering wheel. Palms sweat. No. Nooooo. No ways! Oh my God, NO.

Muppet returns, magazine discreetly folded over. Gets in. Off we go (frog-hopping at first as leg muscles appear to have seized due to shock). We drive home in silence. Man and Magazine alight from the car and slink inside.

Am I just too creative? No seriously?

** MAJOR UPDATE **

It turns out it was a farming magazine!! After all that. Well that's the cover story anyway and one i'm quite frankly going to believe for the sake of my own wellbeing.