A worse horror than Halloween.
Last week I spoke much about Halloween, witches and the like. Well, that silly state of affairs is over now, but not so the horror in our supermarkets. You see, no sooner have the shelves emptied of vampire costumes and the last pumpkin has been gouged to pieces, a new terror is unleashed upon us.
Yes, I was strolling through my local Morrisons the other day, turned a corner, thus leaving tinned vegetables behind and walked right into it.
Oh no … The Christmas Aisle.
Come on, we’re only just out of October. And no, I wasn’t imagining it. I looked and there they were – rows of mince pies under the banner of Stock up in Time for Christmas. Looking at the boxes, I then saw the use-by date and noticed it said November 29. Now where’s the bloody point in that and how is this stocking up for Christmas? Your mince pies will be green and mouldy come the time you tell the kids about a fat man climbing down the chimney while also warning them not to speak to strangers.
Christmas. The season of goodwill to all retailers is upon us.
And while I was in the supermarket …
I made a fatal mistake the other day. I only had about half a dozen items in my shopping basket and was weak. I gave in to temptation and made a stupid decision in using the automated checkout.
Now I hate these things. I’ve never been the same since the traumatic experience of having an argument with one. It was when they were first introduced and I’d bought two books and a newspaper.
I’d scanned one book, then the other, only the computer checkout didn’t recognise a reduction in price if you bought the two together. Therefore, I called the customer service guy who rectified the fault. Then, before scanning the paper, I made the mistake of placing my hand on the bagging area.
‘Unexpected Item in bagging area’, the computer droned.
‘It was me.’
‘Unexpected item in bagging area.’
‘IT WAS ME!’
‘Please remove item from bagging area.’
‘I have. I’m dancing around the aisle now,’ I banged my fist on the bagging area.
‘Unexpected item in bagging area.’
‘Arrrgggh! IT’S ME!’
Another call to customer services and the guy ambled back with mild resentment and attitude.
Right, I was ready to roll. Scan the newspaper – Blip.
‘Place the item in the bagging area.’
‘I have.’
‘Place the item in the bagging area.’
‘I HAVE.’ Bang of fist – again.
‘Unexpected item in bagging area.’
‘Arrrgghhhh!’ And another call for customer services.
Don’t you just love automated services? But it doesn’t end there. Last week, as this picture will show, I tried again.
Sorry for the poor quality, but it was taken on my phone and at an angle as I didn’t want people staring. I hate to make a scene, you know.
Anyway, I’d scanned my veggies, newspaper and loaf of bread. However, I ran into trouble when it came to my French Bread Stick.
Yes, that’s it. Big, aren’t they, and one of a few items in a supermarket, impossible to bag.
‘Place the item in the bagging area.’
WTF? How the hell can you place a French Stick into a tiny carrier. You can’t. It’s not possible. Regardless, the machine wouldn’t let me move until I did so. Therefore, I touched the bagging area to try to fool it, only to knock my bag onto the floor, scattering all my goods.
Arrrrggh! Fume. Rage. I hate those bloody machines.
Then, the thing wouldn’t let me pay. It still wouldn’t accept that I couldn’t bag my French Stick so it locked the terminal and I had to wait for an assistant.
Christ! I’d have been served quicker if I’d stood in the longest checkout queue behind ten pensioners with full trolleys who all wanted to stay behind for a chat.
A checkout lady came to me, showing all the personality of an auditor on mogadon.
I grinned. Pointed. ‘I really hate these machines.’
She reset it, showing what it must be like to live without a sense of humour.
Automated machines. No wonder people resort to shoplifting.
A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.
A few months ago, I told the tale of a car park in Leicester which is supposedly the final resting place of King Richard III. The car park was built on the site of an old Abbey and it is there, the one-time child murdering, Uncle Dickie, is thought to be buried. I spoke those months ago about the silliness of it but apparently, they think they’ve found him now. Also, once identified by DNA, they are going to bury him again.
What? He was buried. He’d been underground over 500 years. What was the point digging him up only to stick him under the ground again? Have they nothing better to do in Leicester?
No … don’t bother answering that.
Here is the old duffer, being terribly over-acted by Sir Lawrence Olivier during the death scene from the film, Richard III, based on a play by some guy named Shakespeare.
Trying to eradicate history.
I’ve kept quiet about this for weeks but no more.
I’ve watched and read about the Jimmy Saville scandal with interest (God, that sounds like an opening from a letter to my local paper). I know the guy isn’t alive to defend himself but from the testimonies I’ve heard, I’m in no doubt he was a very bad man. Thing is, people are now trying to wipe out all trace he existed by changing street signs, removing plaques, etc. A huge effort, in fact. It’s a pity that effort wasn’t put in over the years bringing him to justice when alive. I don’t blame the girls one bit but I do blame all those who now say they suspected him all along. It’s like everybody knew. In fact, I feel like I’m the only person who didn’t know Jimmy Saville was a paedophile.
It’s a shame though. I’ll never be able to watch those boy scouts on the roller coaster without wondering if Jimmy asked them to promise to do their duty.
Whatever the conclusion, this should always remain one of the best TV moments ever.
Knob of the week.
I haven’t had a knob of the week for ages. I stopped when most of my subjects were all knobs and I just incorporated them into the other stories. However, as a headline for Tory MP, Philip Davies, knob of the week, says it all.
Davies showed himself to be an idiot of the utmost degree by suggesting the disabled and people with learning difficulties should expect to get less pay as they could never be as productive as more able folk.
I did think of arguing the case against his remarks, even coming up with some clever and satirical putdown for such ridiculous comments from an MP. However, I think in this case, basic name-calling insults will suffice.
CRETIN!
No spooks in this house.
As I was saying earlier, Halloween has gone and not only that, I didn’t get one kid trick or treating at my door this year. Great. I knew that Jim Fixed it for Me, badge would come in useful one day.
Cheers.
Nick
Antony N Britt - Author 
sigh unfortunatly your knob of the week isnt the only knob out there ….. ok i admit it i watch our Mr J Kyle and even though i am one of the dredful unwashed booze and drug taking benifit familys that his taxes pay .. but i have an answer for this .. we sigh on every 2 weeks .. drug and alachol test us if we pass we get our money ( enough to live on ) if we fail the drug and booze test we lose most of our money coz if we can afford to buy drugs and booze we getting to much ….I HAVNT DRUNK BOOZE IN 10 yr and I ONLY TAKE THE DOCS DIABETIC DRUGS .. i would love to have a little bit more money from the drink and drug tossers i wouldnt need a lot the gas and lecky bill went up by 20% and GOV cut our money by 30 % i would be happy with 15 pound a week extra thats all just so i can afford to have my heating on when it gets cold … wonder when mr P Davies mp last had to decide heating or food .. looks too healthy to have to struggle dosnt he
These MPs live on another planet.
Hi Nick,
While I was reading this I started wondering if everyone at the BBC would now have to cut the labels out of their Savile Row suits…
I’ve watched people at those checkouts. I’m always amazed that people get through them. I bought lots of fruit this week and then my salivary gland swelled up and I can’t eat it. I hope my gland gets better before the fruit goes off.
I saw chocolate money in Lidl weeks ago, but it’s even cheaper in Aldi. I’m planning on doing a Christmas stocking for a Chinese student. She’s 22 years old but will like it, she’s never seen one before. She’s just experienced her first bonfire night. Christmas should be interesting when all the students go to parties and all get drunk.
I’m in bed. I just talked to a Chinese student in Wolverhampton, now I have a writer in California on MSN. 🙂
I might venture over your way tomorrow, I still haven’t been to Matalan to get some new gloves.
I had an encounter with a paying in cheque one at the bank yesterday. It wouldn’t accept my cheque so I had to queue up.
Sorry about the end-of-year BS that’ll see kids cajoled into singing rancid tales about a guy who’s claimed to be his own dad (after non-consensually impregnating his mom) who claims to have sacrificed himself for the offences that hadn’t been ‘committed’ yet and in such a fashion that the books written many decades after this alleged event also claimed national geological and meteorological occurrences that NONE of the surviving records affirm (or mildly hint at)… anyway, it’s in Mozzy’s interests to convince us there’s a reason to celebrate. Remember when when Halloween was free from children being trained to beg at your door?
As you’re aware, I’m ever so slightly opposed to such rubbish.
Is it unreasonable to think of Mr SaVILE as yet another vulgar individual who rides that nasty tradition of accepting someone because of religious affiliations? Papal knighthood from an organisation who’s recruitment practices rely on the grooming of children and subjugation of women. We trust them too readily: I’d rather leave my ridged in the hands of Mrs Bobbit than trust the word of a cleric from any of the thousands of cults that infest our society.
Bob of the week? I’ve long thought that ignorance toward the ‘disabled’ is an indication of a unimaginative, bigoted and inexperienced buffoon. I’d wager that the resilience of those who’ve managed any debilitation makes them a greater contributor.
As I’ve said before, those who seek power are seldom of the character you trust to wield it wisely: I’m referring to MPs and clerics, here.
For the record, it’s about a decade sinse trick or treaters learnt the wisdom of going passed our door.
Nice one again, Nick. Thanks for duelling my early morning rant.
You paint Christmas in a clear, realistic language. 🙂
Your comment about those in power and they shouldn’t be allowed to weild it reminds me of a line in Hitch Hikers Guide.
Nick
I have read your blog for some time, but have never contributed until now.
Your experiences of the automated check-out system will resonate with many supermarket customers. Any day now, Tesco and the rest will introduce a new process whereby customers not only scan and pack our own purchases, but are required to stack shelves, clean the floors and change the window displays.
However, spare a thought for the staff.
They hate the system even more than you do. It threatens their jobs. It distances them from customers, until and unless there is a problem. Most of all, it makes an absolute nonsense of any notion of customer service.
The obvious thing to do is to refuse to use the system and go to a staffed check-out, however long it might take. This way, you will meet and converse with a fellow human on almost equal terms, while sending a small, but powerful message to the idiots that introduced the system.
Even better, use local shops. In my experience, although they may not be quite as cheap and convenient as the retail sheds and car parks that blight our landscape, they are pretty good at customer care and help to maintain local commercial and social vitality.
The Realist
Exactly. I like the face-to-face. It’s the same at the bank. I don’t like using cash machines to pay in cheques. I’d much rather queue and annoy the hell out of the cashier.
I see that you are still find it necessary to belittle under-paid, at-risk and under-appreciated staff.
I appreciate that you have a gripe, but surely you must recognise that the people that you parody are also human beings.
I would suggest a short course in humility and a revision of your writing style.
Pearl
It’s called satire and humour. Don’t take it so serious. If you notice, the person I poke fun at and belittle the most frequent, is myself. So anybody else, I reckon, is fair game.
I must have missed the satire and humour element. I have also failed to spot your claimed tendency to self-deprecation and self-awareness.
I have, however, noticed that you are unable to accept criticism, cannot spell and lacks an sense of grammar. These might just be fundamental flaws in a budding author.
Still, it never stopped Jeffery Archer.
In the true spirit of satire, perhaps you could get a job in a supermarket and write about the characters that pass through your checkout. 30 minutes would sufficient.
Pearl
I do love the irony of criticising my grammar with a sentence containing bad grammar. Where you say I am “unable to accept criticism, cannot spell and lacks an sense of grammar.” That should be lack, surely? Or writing lacks a sense of grammar. Oh and phrase “30 minutes would sufficient.” Didn’t you need to include the word be in that?
Feel free to point out any spelling mistakes so I can correct them, if there really are any. I welcome all criticism, which is why I approve your comments. I could easily hide them but I don’t believe in hiding like some.
I’m actually honoured to have gained my first internet troll. I must be doing something right. But seriously, don’t wind yourself up. It’s not going to do so for me. If my writing offends you, try something else. Or maybe that’s not the point. I suspect a tinge of jealousy here, hence the attacks. If you are (which I suspect) a writer, concentrate on channeling your interest more positively. And if you need any help, you only have to ask. I support any writers/bloggers of all stages of development.
In order.
The deliberate mistakes were, of course, intended satirically
Thank you for offering to support me in my nascent blogging career. However, being patronised is, I have learned, not necessarily a basis for a good pupil/teacher relationship.
Therefore, forgive me for not accepting your kind offer, although it is much appreciated. (This is called sarcasm).
You should note that, although I am not a troll, I have a natural antipathy to goats. To save your time on dictionary research, antipathy means a general disinterest or disregard for a particular item or topic in question.
In supermarket check out terms, this stands for Get Out And Try Shopping.
Pearl
ps have you spotted the spellin error?
Actually, you’ll find antipathy means aversion, dislike and distaste. And as for the supermarket checkout terms – you’ve lost me. But the burning question is – What the hell have goats ever done to you? I was chased by a goat as a kid (no pun intended) and it never did me any harm.
madam pearl i work for the appreciation of goats society and i take offence to your dislike of goats they are a gentle creature and do not harm people of genteel nature but admit that they can sometimes take a dislike to people which may lead to the odd nudge please bear this in mind if ever you do come upon one goat lover
I try to avoid automated checkouts, etc. when possible. But I am afraid that one day we will have no choice but to use them. Enjoyed your roast, even the banter with your troll.