Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Lost In The Supermarket
I love supermarket shopping.
I always have, since I was a kid. There's something about these huge cathedrals of commerce that pleases far more than shopping malls do. I must confess to always being more of a middle of the road Sainsbury's or Tesco man, finding the cut priced warehouses of Asda and Lidl a bit, well, depressing, and the upmarket bourgeois quality of Waitrose and Marks n Sparks food halls a bit rich for my tastes.
I used to help my mum by pushing the trolley as soon as I was tall enough, not out of some misplaced desire to help her out, but more because I just love the places. But it was at University that I realised the real wonder of the places, because then I was free! The apronstrings had been ripped asunder, and I was free to jump on my trolley to freedom. Cos now I could buy everything I wanted, and Mum couldn't tell me off! Except of course... I was a student. So I was trapped by having to preserve enough cash to pickle myself in the evening. Curses! But still there was room for trips to the forbidden aisle, where the evil treats resided and called me from beyond the petrol station forecourt outside. And during the holidays back home, there was, at the time, the biggest Tesco in the country, with 24 hour shopping that would find my friends and I buying daft things like a chocolate gateau, a lettuce and a copy of Smash Hits at 3am, whilst insisting on all 6 of us having a trolley each.
And now, here i am, a fully certified adult, with a job, a regular paycheque, and 2 supermarkets within walking distance of the Bandito Bunker, one of them even boasting 24 hour opening and bizarre "ethnic" treats from across the globe. So, I'll find any excuse to slip my coat on, grab my wallet, and worship at the gates of la supermarche, as our French cousins would say. And then I'll skip and bound round the aisles, my modest basket overflowing with treats from all over the world, caring not a jot for the damage carrying such a heigh is doing to the lumber part of my back.
And yes, I do feel a certain level of resentmentment that my bananas are better travelled than I am. And yes, I know that my cheap CD is no doubt killing real record shops (not that I don't do my bit, I might add). And yes, I'm sure the store is actively stifling local business. But forgive me. The supermarket is one of the vices of the modern age that I would genuinely struggle without. So, I beg you, forgive me, my No Logo bearing friends. I had to start it somewhere.
|All opinions expressed within the pages and comments of this blog are solely those of the author, and not of his employers or associates. If you have any complaints, corrections or queries regarding any of the material contained within, please contact the author via email. Thanks for reading!