I have officially become a real person for about the four thousandth time recently, not only because I have vacuumed my flat but because I received something very special in the post. Some call it a rite of passage. Some call it The Next Step. Some can’t live without it. Some try to call what they do without it ‘living’. But everyone wants them, and everyone needs them.
I got a £4 Tesco Clubcard voucher.
You damn right – I’m in the gang. The crew. I played the system. I bought some stuff for a bit and got some points, then I bought Star Wars on Blu-ray and there was some kind of offer where you got 300 points or something so I did that and I got cashback too and it was all like ‘whoosh!’ and ‘kapow!’ and I bet you’re all well jealous now.
But I do feel like this is the next step in me becoming the worst person alive. I find myself wondering – often aloud and while wandering – why Waitrose doesn’t have a similar system in place. I saw they had a card thing just the other day, actually, but it didn’t say I would be part of a club and I wouldn’t get a natty little fob like you do from (evil) Tesco, so I ignored it completely.
Plus it’s Waitrose so the only benefits it would give you would be the ability to be an even more middle class, middle aged woman.
I just want vouchers that I can buy chips with.
It’s happened. I officially shop at Waitrose. Sometimes. What I once derided as the habitat of middle-aged, middle class women has become my second choice supermarket when I need to pick up my beans or soup (with beans in it). That is second behind Lidl, of course – I could never really completely dump Lidl. It has cheap things, and cheap things are good. Still, Waitrose is the alternative that I’ve picked for when I’m bored of questionable meat, or vegetables that look a ‘bit wrong’. Also it’s right across the road from Lidl, which means it’s always an option as I do so hate having to move more than absolutely necessary.
Oh wait, no – I mean: “I shop at Waitrose because I care about quality products at competitive prices, have a boner for Heston and Delia and love the fact that they only use farmers who ‘share their values’”.
Why is a supermarket a statement of your class, of your quality of life or of the type of person you are? Why are all the women in Waitrose (who look like clones) frightened of walking across the road for far cheaper items of equal quality? Why do I have to be confronted with Heston Bloominhell (HAHA SATIRE) and his stupid penis-like head every time I go into that place? So many questions, so little in the way of answers. It’s a supermarket where they sell you things in order to make a profit. It’s not a statement on your quality of life, your health, wealth or wise… th. It’s just a supermarket. Just like Lidl. They both sell beans. It’s like people getting nostalgic about Woolworths: stupid and annoying.
Still – got some cheap Waitrose banoffee pie today. Can’t argue with those odds.