Shopping
Shopping sucks arse. Of all the things about having a new house I'd say that shopping is probably the worst.
I've managed to sort out my eating habits so that I only need to do the "big shop" once a month and pick up milk, bread ect. when I need too. By "sorting out my eating habits" I mean I eat loads at the start of the month and then it's whatever I've got left thrown into a big pot and eaten with pasta; It's a bit like back in the days of old when cooking was done in a big pot and things got stuck into it as the week went on. Whatever didn't get finished got carried over to the next day and more stuff was added to it. This is the origin of the old rhyme 'peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot, nine days old'.
Of course even with using the "big shop" method I still have to go shopping at some point, it can only be put off for so long. So I have to go to the local Tesco, grab a trolley (which is annoyingly just a wire basket with wheels and nothing to do with Trolls) and set off as fast as you can before, oh no wait here it is; Some idiot standing gawking at nothing in the centre of the isle. So you cough loudly or otherwise make you presence known, of course the ignore you so you kick their trolley out of the way and grab an item off the shelf from in front of them and scarper round the corner. Only to encounter the chav mother and her charges running round screaming and hollering at the top of their lungs. Again you wait patiently for the mother to regain some sort of discipline over Amber-Lee, Smirnoff-Ice and Donner-Kebab-an-chips , she is of course too busy chatting to the shop assistant to care what her children are doing. So you grab a packet of smokes and throw them on the floor away from where you want to go, the kids make a bee line for them and you continue.
After about another 20 such encounters the sheer inanity of the whole thing gets too much for you and you have a break down and just stand by your trolley in the middle of the isle. Then some arse comes and kicks your trolley out of the way and grabs a item of the shelf from in front of you and disappears round the corner.
It's about then that you realise you need a drink so you just take your half full trolley and head to the Alcohol isle and fill up and leave.
I'm now at home drinking Rum, when I had none before; So it's not all bad.
Shopping sucks arse. Of all the things about having a new house I'd say that shopping is probably the worst.
I've managed to sort out my eating habits so that I only need to do the "big shop" once a month and pick up milk, bread ect. when I need too. By "sorting out my eating habits" I mean I eat loads at the start of the month and then it's whatever I've got left thrown into a big pot and eaten with pasta; It's a bit like back in the days of old when cooking was done in a big pot and things got stuck into it as the week went on. Whatever didn't get finished got carried over to the next day and more stuff was added to it. This is the origin of the old rhyme 'peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot, nine days old'.
Of course even with using the "big shop" method I still have to go shopping at some point, it can only be put off for so long. So I have to go to the local Tesco, grab a trolley (which is annoyingly just a wire basket with wheels and nothing to do with Trolls) and set off as fast as you can before, oh no wait here it is; Some idiot standing gawking at nothing in the centre of the isle. So you cough loudly or otherwise make you presence known, of course the ignore you so you kick their trolley out of the way and grab an item off the shelf from in front of them and scarper round the corner. Only to encounter the chav mother and her charges running round screaming and hollering at the top of their lungs. Again you wait patiently for the mother to regain some sort of discipline over Amber-Lee, Smirnoff-Ice and Donner-Kebab-an-chips , she is of course too busy chatting to the shop assistant to care what her children are doing. So you grab a packet of smokes and throw them on the floor away from where you want to go, the kids make a bee line for them and you continue.
After about another 20 such encounters the sheer inanity of the whole thing gets too much for you and you have a break down and just stand by your trolley in the middle of the isle. Then some arse comes and kicks your trolley out of the way and grabs a item of the shelf from in front of you and disappears round the corner.
It's about then that you realise you need a drink so you just take your half full trolley and head to the Alcohol isle and fill up and leave.
I'm now at home drinking Rum, when I had none before; So it's not all bad.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home