
Me and My Shopping
I am not good at shopping.
I should be – I do it often enough. I’m talking here about practical
shopping – Sainsbury’s and Tesco shopping. I have no store loyalty btw. I
go to ‘Burys when I’m at home and Tesco when I’m at work. Unless I have a
whim and do otherwise. My only act of loyalty is not going to Asda or Kwik
Save because, well, they’re rather plebby. One can almost hear one’s old
headmaster saying "Old Stops do not go to ‘Kwik Save’" and spitting the
word out as if it were an out of date macaroon served to him by an
inexperienced servant.
I am chugging along in my
little car and I try to think about what I need. It is always a bad
question to ask myself as it tends to get a little bit out of proportion.
What is "milk" compared to "purpose in life"? The melodramatic side of me
takes over and my list becomes full of things that even a concept-store
cannot offer. My local Sainsbury’s will offer Tai Chi and personal
shoppers (at a small fee) but can’t help as far as ‘job satisfaction’,
‘friends’, ‘hair that doesn’t make me look as if I’ve had a nightmare’ and
‘someone who doesn’t think I’m weird’ are concerned. Thus I go through the
electronic doors with a maudlin sense of self worthlessness, a debit card
and a big trolley. Not a good combination.
I know that bread shouldn’t
go at the bottom because it will get squashed and that frozen things will
thaw out so you must get them last. That’s it as far as logical
progression round the store is concerned. I hurtle up and down isles
looking for something that will change my life, make me happy, stop my
hair from looking as if I’ve just woken up from a terrible dream or is Buy
One Get One Free. I find bargains hard to resist. Never mind that I’d
never use, eat or drink one of them let alone two. Worse still are the
BOGOFs which ARE of use. That’s how I end up with a freezer full of ice
cream which obviously has to be eaten or it’ll turn into poison. Or
something. Today they had Haaaagen Daaaaz on offer. There is something
magical about the way they combine your actual ice cream with biscuits
that haven’t even been baked yet and turn it into heaven on earth. It
makes Harry Potter look like Harry Carpenter.
But even though I’m feeling
miserable, woozy from the strip lighting, annoyed by every single living
being in the shop and utterly baffled as to how I ended up surrounded by
feminine hygiene products when last time I looked I was in the crisps
section (like I’d wandered through a potato chip wardrobe and ended up in
menstrual Narnia) I still get one twinge of superiority from supermarket
shopping. I have never sunk so low as to buy pre-grated cheese. I have
never found myself so utterly lacking in self respect that I have been
unable to grate my own cheddar while making tea. It would be one thing if
the grated stuff was some kind of rare cheese but it isn’t. It is ordinary
cheese which costs ten times as much because it has been grated. It’s
enough to make you think the communists were right during the cold war –
we are a decadent society. Except they wore fur hats so they must be
baddies.
I occasionally try to do a
Holmes when I’m standing at the checkout and looking at what the person in
front is buying. I’m rubbish at it (though obviously I have no way of
knowing whether I’m right or wrong as the person, like a thief in the
night or a life partner, is gone before you’ve got to know anything about
them). I shudder to think what people must think when they look at what
I’ve got in my trolley. I panic buy and end up with stupid things. I ask
you, if push came to shove, which is more useful – a pint of milk or a
scented candle? Exactly. And the breakfast ceral. I’m nearly
twenty-something-late and shouldn’t be buying cereal with cartoon
characters on it. I should be on sensible products which stress their
nutritional value rather than emphasising the bit of plastic that’s
inside. Even more than that, I should be buying ingredients rather than
finished products. Nothing tells the world more clearly that I cannot cook
than my supermarket trolley. Not that I buy meals-for-one or anything like
that. Just pizzas, Supernoodles and tins of soup. That sort of thing. The
closest I get to an ingredient is the house brick sized slab of good old
Cheddar (mature, strength 4 because I am tough and butch and like my
cheese to taste like real cheese). There are no vegetables, no flour, no
tubs of herbs or spices. It displays the very much temporary nature of my
existence. It’s like I’ve just moved in to a new flat and all my pots and
pans are still in boxes. I have to have Wheetos for tea because my cooker
still hasn’t arrived from Comet. I’ll stick a pizza in the oven because
I’ve got the decorator coming round to give an estimate for doing the
whole place up and I haven’t got time to cook. Only none of that is true.
Everything in the kitchen is where it ought to be and has been for yonks.
I just don’t use it. I’m still a student in my heart of hearts. In those
days I could go for weeks on toast and orange juice. I probably still
could except that now I can afford pizzas and chocolate too.
So that’s the all fine and
large part of shopping. I am inept at it but you could’ve guessed that
from the fact that I’m inept at everything, including writing about how
inept I am at things. Now I’m going to put nice me to one side and should
for a moment. Those with sensitive ears or pets might want to look at
away.
WHY CAN THE PROLES NOT PUT
SHOPPING TROLLEYS IN THE SHOPPING TROLLEY BAYS THAT ARE PROVIDED? WHY DO
THEY INSIST ON LEAVING THEM ALL OVER THE CARPARK? WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH
THESE RETARDED PEOPLE? WHAT MAKES THEM LEAVE THEM IN AN EMPTY SPACE WHEN
THERE IS A PROPER PLACE A FEW YARDS AWAY? DON’T THEY THINK ANYONE MIGHT
WANT THAT SPACE? DON’T THEY REALISE THAT TROLLEYS HAVE WHEELS AND MIGHT
ROLL INTO THE ROAD? THESE MORONS SHOULD BE SHOT THROUGH THE GENITALS. I
HATE PEOPLE.
Supernoodles, for those
still with us, are rather fab on toast. I just thought I’d share a
culinary tip with you so you didn’t feel the last few minutes was a
complete waste of time.
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