Angus Dei writes:
There are those who think that Tesco is the Bees jointy bits and others, like me, that think it is a giant rip off.
Stephen Pollard, writing for the Torygraph, seems to think that giant multinational supermarkets are the best thing since sliced what not, with quotes such as:
“It is fashionable among the Left-liberal intelligentsia to view supermarkets as some sort of uncouth offence against decency, fit only for the proles who subsist on multipacks of turkey twizzlers. Instead of driving off to shop at rapacious retail beasts we should be pottering down the high street, exchanging mid-morning pleasantries with our butcher, baker and candlestick maker.”
Something I have never been is a Left-liberal intelligentsia. I use Tesco because it is the only supermarket in my town, I use it because allegedly it is open 24hrs a day and the parking is free (for now), and I use it because the Butcher, the Baker and the Candlestick maker have been put out of business by the high rents for their non-shops.
I could go to Sainsburys in Farnham, or Safeway in Farnborough, both of which involve large volumes of traffic, annoyance and expense, but I use Tesco because of the convenience (the bowels aren’t what they used to be), but over the last few months I have noticed the prices spiralling, bread has gone up to £1.29 a loaf, luncheon meat is up from 60p to 72p, Pilchards in tomato sauce has risen from 75p to 95p, toilet rolls are up, cereals are up, kitchen rolls have exploded, coffee is off the scale, tea is extortionate, real meat costs more than gold and even the price of bangers is cooking.
I don’t hate Tesco because of my moral objection to them making money – that is what they are there for. I hate them because they are taking the piss out of the “normal” shopper who is trying to exist in today’s economic climate by driving up prices for people who don’t have a choice.
Very much so. The other day, I was in Tesco at the second busiest time of their day. They had three tills open out of 12 and the reason, it seemed to me, was because they were trying to get everyone to use the machine checkout.
As one elderly gentleman said, “I don’t want to use that. I don’t understand it, I don’t like it and it takes my money.”
I think he meant that it is so complicated getting notes and coin from entirely different places on the machine and he was bewildered by the array of choices, which might be simple for Tesco staff but which is a pain in the butt, scuse my French, for an elderly customer.
And as one of those people who detests phoning a utilities company and getting, “We are recording your call for quality of service purposes; you have four choices …” which makes you feel like shouting, “Look, you idiots, I only want to speak with a human being!!!” to which they, of course reply, “All our operators are busy, your call is being held in a queue” … as a person who detests all that, then I am not, repeat not, getting myself bamboozled by a bloody machine at Tescos when they can jolly well open some more checkouts and give some of this fabled service.
And another thing – why, when I asked that lady in red if she knew where the muesli was, did she reply, “I should hope so.” And what is the store manager herself, the Big Chief, the Big Kahuna, doing anyway, slinking around the shelves, disguised as a shopgirl?
“You look like one of your girls.”
“Thank you.” Presumably, it was this PC democracy thingy going on. Turns out they’d had so many customer complaints that senior staff were going back to suits the following week. Good thing too.
Incidentally, did you know that there’s no hierarchical reason for the red and the blue? Staff have a choice of colours. Isn’t that nice? Thought you might like to know that.
So there I was, standing in one of the three queues, when a Tesco girl came up and asked if I wanted to put my things – well, thing actually – through the machine. “It will save you a lot of time.”
“Actually, I don’t want to save time, thanks. I’m trying to spend time. I’ve twenty minutes to kill.”
“Let me help you put it through the machine.”
“Well why didn’t you say so?”