Derek pointed to the cold-food section. “Anything worth having there?”
Doris walked over and looked in. She shook her head. “Some bashed tubs of yoghurt and a couple of packs of dried grapes. That’s about it.”
Derek was annoyed. For years he had been coming for the Whoops discounted food at this supermarket and he had been hugely rewarded for his determination. “Never pay a penny more than you need to” was Derek’s motto in life.
But that was before the low-cost housing had been built in the neighbouring estate. Now, boatloads of people on low incomes would regularly swoop into the supermarket at the time prices were being cut. They’d stand around, block access to the bargains and generally prevent Derek from maximising his spending power and grabbing whoops-priced groceries.
On this day, he and Doris had arrived 15 minutes earlier than usual. Derek reasoned that an early assault on the cold food section would be a useful exercise and, even if the food had not been fully discounted at that time, at least he and Doris would be in the prime position to pounce when the price was right.
“Stand here beside me,” Derek instructed his wife. “We’ll create a blockade.”
Dutifully, Doris took her position beside her husband and they locked arms.
“Excuse me,” said a diminutive, elderly lady pushing a small trolley. She was trying to see what was available in the fridge. “If I could just squeeze past…”
“Nothing to buy here, love” said Derek as he wrestled the trolly from the lady’s grasp and pushed it further down the aisle. “Run along, now,”
The old lady felt a little put out and shuffled after her trolley.
Derek retook his position and looked around for the shop assistants. He had expected them to return and further discount the foodstuffs but no-one approached. “Strange,” he said to Doris. Then suddenly he had a thought. “Stay here” he ordered and took off down the aisle. Dorris watched him go and he disappeared round the corner.
Within seconds he was back. “Quickly, woman. They’re repricing the stuff on the other side. We’re at the wrong side of the aisle!”
They both set off at speed and turned the corner. In front of them at the newly-created discounted food section, mayhem had erupted. People were clamouring and shouting, pushing and shoving and generally behaving in a manner one never sees at M&S.
Derek pushed his way into the melee. A large, tattooed man stood at the front of the group next to the Whoops food. Derek tried to reach past.
“Oi! Wait your turn.” The large man said. “I was ‘ere first.”
“I think you’ll find I was here well before you, my good man.” said Derek with the manner of someone used to getting his own way and he pushed the large man to the side.
Later that afternoon, Doris carried a bashed tub of yoghurt and a pack of dried grapes into the hospital at visiting time.
Doris walked over and looked in. She shook her head. “Some bashed tubs of yoghurt and a couple of packs of dried grapes. That’s about it.”
Derek was annoyed. For years he had been coming for the Whoops discounted food at this supermarket and he had been hugely rewarded for his determination. “Never pay a penny more than you need to” was Derek’s motto in life.
But that was before the low-cost housing had been built in the neighbouring estate. Now, boatloads of people on low incomes would regularly swoop into the supermarket at the time prices were being cut. They’d stand around, block access to the bargains and generally prevent Derek from maximising his spending power and grabbing whoops-priced groceries.
On this day, he and Doris had arrived 15 minutes earlier than usual. Derek reasoned that an early assault on the cold food section would be a useful exercise and, even if the food had not been fully discounted at that time, at least he and Doris would be in the prime position to pounce when the price was right.
“Stand here beside me,” Derek instructed his wife. “We’ll create a blockade.”
Dutifully, Doris took her position beside her husband and they locked arms.
“Excuse me,” said a diminutive, elderly lady pushing a small trolley. She was trying to see what was available in the fridge. “If I could just squeeze past…”
“Nothing to buy here, love” said Derek as he wrestled the trolly from the lady’s grasp and pushed it further down the aisle. “Run along, now,”
The old lady felt a little put out and shuffled after her trolley.
Derek retook his position and looked around for the shop assistants. He had expected them to return and further discount the foodstuffs but no-one approached. “Strange,” he said to Doris. Then suddenly he had a thought. “Stay here” he ordered and took off down the aisle. Dorris watched him go and he disappeared round the corner.
Within seconds he was back. “Quickly, woman. They’re repricing the stuff on the other side. We’re at the wrong side of the aisle!”
They both set off at speed and turned the corner. In front of them at the newly-created discounted food section, mayhem had erupted. People were clamouring and shouting, pushing and shoving and generally behaving in a manner one never sees at M&S.
Derek pushed his way into the melee. A large, tattooed man stood at the front of the group next to the Whoops food. Derek tried to reach past.
“Oi! Wait your turn.” The large man said. “I was ‘ere first.”
“I think you’ll find I was here well before you, my good man.” said Derek with the manner of someone used to getting his own way and he pushed the large man to the side.
Later that afternoon, Doris carried a bashed tub of yoghurt and a pack of dried grapes into the hospital at visiting time.
