A Monthly Publication

By Edward Wheatley

I know it takes two to tango, but why does it take two people to go round a supermarket to get the shopping?

Before you answer you will no doubt wish to debate the matter with a friend for several minutes. Standing side-by-side with your trolleys and wives in tow at the most congested place in the veggies section next to a loaded cage. A discussion which would also include details of your latest trip to hospital and the flutterings of the Canaries.

This will not only impede the rest of us, but will put back your further lengthy espousal discussions as to the merits of various brands and style of biscuits: or the comparative costs per sheet of loo paper if bought in two, four, or eight roll packs.

Or, you may wish to contemplate my question wandering aloof, like a poet through a field of daffs: observing with a patronising demeanor the hoi polloi busying themselves scavenging from the shelves mundane substances of which retirement has only recently made you aware. Alternatively, you may simply, as I saw a few days ago, wish to follow your wife around while reading the newspaper as if you were still on the 8.42, or at your desk in the Ministry of Hard Work.

Not that we are now offered much variety in most products beyond the “own brand”. Indeed some items seem to have gone missing entirely – tried to get any tinned plums for a nice crumble lately?

Myself, I am very fond of mincemeat. To maintain my usual ebullient disposition - along with good marmalade - I need regular ingestions of this flavourful comestible. However, when inquiring as to its absence it was explained to me slowly and in a highly enunciated manner that it was “...not yet Christmas, Dear.” Though I had sort of guessed as much as the staff weren't wearing silly Santa outfits. Nor, I deduced by the same sartorial method, was it Halloween. But what had the date to do with the availability of mincemeat ?

So apparently supermarkets not only dictate what we eat, but when we eat it.

And surely one of the most worrying commercials is the one which explains that when ordering on-line it is not even necessary to select one's purchases as this will be done for one using information already garnered and stored from one's scarily named “loyalty” card.

No wonder retail is the new religion and Sir Terry Leahy God's grocer on earth.