I always smile when my supermarket checkout offers me a moment of existential angst. Do you wish to continue? a kindly woman’s voice asks, meaning: you're standing in front of a card-only machine and cash money’s no good here.
Do you wish to continue? What’s not to like about some Hamlet to go with your dozen eggs, coffee and broccoli?
Do you wish to continue? Never mind the small stuff, how’s everything, Dave?
