Tesc-Ho Ho Ho

I had cause to go to Tesco Express today. Something which fills me with fear and dread at the best of times, but couple that with the boundless joys of Christmas time and it’s not going to be a pleasant experience.

The first thing I noticed as I went in was that most of the Christmas stuff had been removed. All the displays of massive boxes of biscuits and the like had been downsized considerably. Now, part of me thinks this could be because there had a been a massive run on Christmas nibbles in the Bradley area, but the more cynical part of me thinks it had all be taken down now because it’s easier than having to do it for a 6am opening on Boxing Day. If you get all that nonsense shifted before you need to then you’re ahead of the game and that’s what our Tesco Express is all about. Although what game they are playing is anyone’s guess.

The second thing I noticed was that the store, which stocks just enough stuff to make you think you could do a full shop if you liked chips, chicken nuggets and ketchup, had been picked clean. Like zombie outbreak clean. A lot of the shelves were empty. Or occupied by a lone thing. The last in the shop. My mum always told me to never buy the last of anything, on the grounds that there’s possibly something wrong with it. Having once found some crisps in there that were 12 months out of date, I can only assume that the remaining item will still be part of the stock this time next year.

The other thing I enjoyed was the presence of McChuckles, the grumpiest Tesco worker ever to grace the floor tiles of that particular supermarket chain. She’s never happy. She’s always worse off, in some way, than you. And she’s a force to be reckoned on when you reach the till. As she constantly asks you if you’re alright. Even though you have gone to a self-checkout to avoid having to talk to her in the first place. She’s also racist, and not a big fan of people who point instead of using words.

So seeing her in a Christmas jumper is just… well it’s all my dreams come true, really.

No-one suits a jolly Christmas jumper more.

Today she was in quite an upbeat mood. I can only assume she has Christmas off in some way, shape or form. Otherwise she’d be spitting on everyone’s shopping and telling them how her Christmas is going to be ruined by corporate greed and the need for people to buy bread on Boxing Day morning while they still have their slippers on.

But she’s not like that. She’s embracing Christmas.

And she said, this morning, a sentence which still doesn’t make much sense to me.

“I like this time in a morning, when songs like that come on.”

She was discussing a Christmas music CD which has been on constantly for the past three weeks.

I can only assume that she is so conditioned to the music now that she knows that “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday” is played, without fail, at 11.10 in the morning. Otherwise what she said was complete bollocks.

And I can’t believe that of her…