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Thursday 18 November 2010

I'm not going to drink it. Honestly.

In between my house and my shop there is a Tesco.

Ah, Tesco. Love them or hate them they exist. Everywhere.

Every.
Single.
Where.

And while I try to not buy things from them I just can't help it. And this can be a problem. Running the type of place that makes healthy, fresh food with some organic things on the shelves people make assumptions about me, one being that I am a wholefood, organic brown rice loving, healthy, Tesco hating vegetarian.

I like whole food. I have enjoyed organic brown rice a couple of times, and I mean a couple. I don't love Tesco but I still shop there and I'm certainly not a vegetarian unless you count my brief flirtation with vegetarianism in 1997 for around 2.4 hours until my school canteen won me over with a chicken pie (it was chicken mince in a grey gravy - wrong, but so very right).

So yes, people can get it wrong. And while I don't pretend to be a wholefood, organic Tesco hating vegetarian I do think people think of me in a certain way. Which can be difficult when you live in a smallish suburb community where everyone pretty much knows each other and shops in the same Tesco while pretending not to.

Tesco - the place not to be at 3.57pm on a Sunday afternoon with a basket of Fish fingers, Birds Eye potato waffles, tesco value baked means and two tubes of Pringles. Not when the person who was asking you how to make Broccoli and Brie soup two days previously is in the queue behind you.

Tesco - the place not to be at 7.47am trying to buy bottles of Real Ale and getting knocked back because they don't have a licence until 8am. Pretty embarrassing when the leader of the school mum brigade who come in for Danish pastries at 9.08am every Thursday is in the queue behind you buying a loaf of (probably organic) brown bread for her daughter's sandwiches.

It wasn't just booze I was buying. Oh no, there were carrots, potatoes, swede, parsnips - the makings of a pretty delicious stew.

Till lady -'I can't serve you with this'
Me 'With what?'
Till lady - 'Alcohol, drink, booze.'
Me 'Ah you mean the Cains FA?
Till lady 'Whatever, it's too early to serve alcohol. We don't have a licence until 8am'
At this point I was shocked. What the hell was I doing in Tesco before 8 o'clock in the bloody morning?
Me -'Oh, I didn't realise it was so early. Um, what time is it exactly?'
Till lady '7.47'
Me - Oh. I'll just take the other stuff for now then. The ingredients for stew. A stew made with Real Ale. I'm not going to drink it. Honestly. I'm making a stew you see. You know, with Real Ale. It's nice. Really nice. The stew I mean. Not the ale. Although the ale is nice too, y'know, in the stew.
Till lady - Next.

So I stood there. The girl from onion. Waiting for 8am. To buy booze. Waiting. Exposed. The fraudster. The faker. Caught out. In community killing Tesco. With my over packaged capitalist genetically modified vegetables sweating in my non biodegradeable plastic environment killing carrier bags. Waiting to buy booze on the school run.

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