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April 15, 2005
Tesco: My part in their downfall…
As it’s Friday I promised Littleone some sweets on the way home from school. So we innocently trundled through the door of the Tescos Express not thinking of picking up a basket because after all we were only in there for a packet of sweets.
Then the inevitable happened.
Vegetable Samosas – out of date tomorrow – Reduced! So I thought LUNCH!
Then I predicted I might run out of reading matter sometime this afternoon, so I got myself a paper to join the colossal ‘must read yesterday’ pile.
Then we decided we were in a cake mood, so we got ourselves a packet of jam tarts for pudding.
Finally I remembered that we were totally out of Orange Juice so I grabbed a carton.
So as you can imagine, what with the school bag, the coat (which has to come off the second the temperature rises by half a degree) and the Friday deluge of splodge art work, I was running out of hands, but fortunately the Orange Juice tucked just nicely under my arm.
Can you see where this is going?!
I politely paid for my purchases, even nodded in greeting to the security guy on my way out. It wasn’t until I was half way home that I began to wonder why the Orange Juice was still tucked under my arm and not in the carrier bag. By the time I reached my front door the truth dawned on me.
I am a thief. Albeit an accidental thief, but a thief all the same.
For a second my middle class, Daily Mail* reading upbringing set in and I paused for a millionth of a second as I thought about going back, tail between my legs, 59p in hand to confess my wrongdoings.
Then I remembered the feature on the news a couple of days back about Tesco’s record annual profits of £2.03bn. Can you imagine that lot in pound coins? I certainly can’t? What difference would 59p make to them?
Bah!
So I held my head high as I mounted the stairs, fancying myself as some sort of revolutionary anti-capitalist heroine, who was going to bring down the multinationals single-handedly with her 59p.
I’m impressed with how easy it was. I mean next time I might actually go for the most expensive item on my list. Can you imagine what radical change could have come about if it had been the 94p samosas under my arm instead?
I am drinking up the Orange Juice a bit quicker than usual, you know just in case they come to retrieve it – and me.
I’ve always quite fancied a navy boiler suit.
Look after my kid when I am gone.
*By this I do not mean that I used to read the Daily Mail. Just that I was surrounded by people who did.
Posted by purple elephant at April 15, 2005 01:22 PM