Nothing super about it
I hate Supermarkets. I despise them. Unfortunately, life being life, and life being cruel and generally vile, the things you hate are usually the things that you pretty much cn't avoid coming into contact with.
I had the misfortune of going to the supermarket yesterday morning. Admittedly I was hungover, had not slept properly and was woken up by the sound of a hoover so I was in a poor frame of mind anyway but at the same time I was starving. So, at my girlfriend's behest, we went to ASDA. This is normally the lowest of any supermarket chain as far as I am concerned but I was in no position to argue really.
After negotiating the Sunday drivers and the 'roadworks' (or rather abandoned tents and holes in the road) we got there. Now, supermarket car parks are always horrific. Even at midnight they are awful (what is worse? No choice or too much?) but on a Sunday they reach a new level of awfulness. But having fought the cars, random walking people, trollies left in spaces and fat families pushing over-full trollies we found a space. So far so good. Until we got inside.
This is what I hate about ASDA. Call me some kind of stubborn old traditionalist if you like but supermarkets sell food and household products. Clothes shops sell clothes. Shoe shops sell shoes. So why do the suits (George I assume) at ASDA think its such a good plan to sell all of these, substandardly at that, in their foul cavernous monstrosities of stores?? And why do women bloody love this?? After wandering about through the racks of horrible clothes, shoes on pegs (!!) and Alba electrical equipment I had had enough before we had even reached the fruit and veg section.
Before I go further I don't generally consider myself to be a snob, but I challenge anyone to refrain from anything that may be considered snobbish behaviour after visiting ASDA. Every fat mother berating her children, every twenty-something woman with a ponytail, sovereign rings and tracksuit bottoms and every man who sees nothing wrong with going out in public wearing a wife-beater vest and big tattoos on their fat arms just makes me think more and more that society is slipping away from me.
As the trip went on, things just went from bad to worse. Rudeness, awfulness, strange smells at every turn. "Oh, but its cheap", my girlfriend tells me. Yes, its cheap for a reason. Because it tastes nasty! And look what you have to endure to get the 'benefit'?
When the horror trip was finally complete I left. Threw the bags in the car, got the pound back for the trolley (has anyone ever considered just taking the trolley? A quid for a trolley sounds like a decent deal to me!), braved the Sunday drivers and roadworks again, got in, locked the door and thanked the lord that it would be another week before having to go to a supermarket again.
I had the misfortune of going to the supermarket yesterday morning. Admittedly I was hungover, had not slept properly and was woken up by the sound of a hoover so I was in a poor frame of mind anyway but at the same time I was starving. So, at my girlfriend's behest, we went to ASDA. This is normally the lowest of any supermarket chain as far as I am concerned but I was in no position to argue really.
After negotiating the Sunday drivers and the 'roadworks' (or rather abandoned tents and holes in the road) we got there. Now, supermarket car parks are always horrific. Even at midnight they are awful (what is worse? No choice or too much?) but on a Sunday they reach a new level of awfulness. But having fought the cars, random walking people, trollies left in spaces and fat families pushing over-full trollies we found a space. So far so good. Until we got inside.
This is what I hate about ASDA. Call me some kind of stubborn old traditionalist if you like but supermarkets sell food and household products. Clothes shops sell clothes. Shoe shops sell shoes. So why do the suits (George I assume) at ASDA think its such a good plan to sell all of these, substandardly at that, in their foul cavernous monstrosities of stores?? And why do women bloody love this?? After wandering about through the racks of horrible clothes, shoes on pegs (!!) and Alba electrical equipment I had had enough before we had even reached the fruit and veg section.
Before I go further I don't generally consider myself to be a snob, but I challenge anyone to refrain from anything that may be considered snobbish behaviour after visiting ASDA. Every fat mother berating her children, every twenty-something woman with a ponytail, sovereign rings and tracksuit bottoms and every man who sees nothing wrong with going out in public wearing a wife-beater vest and big tattoos on their fat arms just makes me think more and more that society is slipping away from me.
As the trip went on, things just went from bad to worse. Rudeness, awfulness, strange smells at every turn. "Oh, but its cheap", my girlfriend tells me. Yes, its cheap for a reason. Because it tastes nasty! And look what you have to endure to get the 'benefit'?
When the horror trip was finally complete I left. Threw the bags in the car, got the pound back for the trolley (has anyone ever considered just taking the trolley? A quid for a trolley sounds like a decent deal to me!), braved the Sunday drivers and roadworks again, got in, locked the door and thanked the lord that it would be another week before having to go to a supermarket again.
posted by ChiefMoaner at 12:28 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home