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Submitted by on December 22, 2017 – 1:06 pmNo Comment
Queues at Hulme Asda, 2017

Queues at Hulme Asda, 2017

I am always amazed by the shopping frenzy at Christmas. I’m not one of those ‘Christmas is over commercialised’ people, I mean this is capitalism what do you expect?

But venturing into Asda Hulme on Christmas eve-eve was astonishing. You had to queue up just to get in the damn shop. I mean this is Asda not Tiffany’s. To be fair to Asda all their veg was priced at 20p and I wanted my 20p veg. Not that I intended to do anything with it. It sits on the kitchen worktop with meaningful intent only to gradually decay over the next few weeks.

The aisles were crammed, packed with people, looking quite bewildered, lost in a sea of 20p veg, pushing and shoving folk, being banged and banging others with huge metal trollies brimming full of 20p carrots, 20p parsnips, 20p broccoli, 20p Turnips, 20p potatoes and 20p Brussels sprouts.

But the shopping madness didn’t stop with overloaded shopping trollies of various vegetables. I saw one lady with a trolly jammed full of bars of soap. Did she know something I didn’t? Was there a soap bars shortage? Should I buy a few dozen bars of soap?

I don’t use soap bars, I use those pushy down soap things, but if there is a soap shortage now that we are out of Europe who knows what might happen? The soap bars that were squeezed and wedged into this shopping trolley were not the nice trendy type that look like big blocks of jelly, they were the type you once got in public toilets back in the day when the council provided a public service for the public and not business. Those soap bars always had a strange smell like they were made of something unholy or alien.

Then I saw another person with at least a hundred toilet rolls, she must be having a bad day. It took an hour for the check out person to scan all the rolls and it looked like a toilet roll protest as they were carried away in a long procession of white toilet rolls. “What do you want? bums. When do we want them, now”. “What do you want? flushing. When do we want that, NOW.”

I went to Asda to buy my Christmas crap, chocolate, biscuits, Hummus and booze, a traditional Christmas feast. And also tea bags. However, I had to literally fight my way to the tea bags, ram a path to the chocolate, bludgeon my way down the biscuit isle and mount an armed assault in the bread isle. I did find refuge in the household cleaning products isle, apparently there was going to be no shortage of cleaning products this Christmas, you dirty bastards.

My final task was to pay for my Christmas crap and retreat to my over-priced flat in Rusholme. I looked on in horror at that that lay before me. Line upon line of frenzied consumers with gigantic trollies full of soap bars, or toilet rolls or tins of shortbread or frozen peas.

What was to be done? Taking inspiration from the person that wrote a pamphlet with a very similar title, I grab hold of my trolly firmly and did a charge-of-the-light-brigade type strike. Knocking, pregnant women, old men, babies, teenagers, disabled people and security guards out of my way with the force of the trolly, I got to the check out. Phew, sweat pouring, hands shaking, heavy breathing I put my Christmas crap through the check out.

Loaded my car, then sat in the car for the next two hours waiting for every fucker in Moss Side, who had also come to Asda, to get the fuck out of the car park.

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