I’ve been on holiday
It was great, thanks.
We got back yesterday, and popped into Sainsbury’s today to pick up a few bits of food. We’re off to a wedding tomorrow, so when we noticed a Pizza Express voucher, we thought it would make a nice gift - y’know, a meal on us, so to speak.
Presenting our gift voucher to the gormless-looking lady at the checkout, we were greeted with an unsurprisingly gormless facial expression followed by a panic-stricken look around for help. It came in the form of a boy who was probably just about to start puberty. As he unhurried over, Tweedle-Dee at the checkout asked:
Do we even sell these?
No, of course you fucking don’t, love. I just want to pay twenty quid for something that I’ve brought into the shop myself. There’s a credit crunch on (so we’re told every day) and I thought that J. Sainsbury PLC could do with a booster.
Welcome home.
Please note: this rant isn’t about people who work in Sainsbury’s or any other supermarket - just that silly woman. My mother works in Sainsbury’s, you see.