Monday, November 27, 2006

Thirsty work...

A walk on the main arterial road that lurks just around the corner. Spotted a sign on a pub door that read NO SHOP LIFTERS! OR HAWKERS! I've been in the place on one occasion and didn't feel comfortable at all. I'd made the assumption that they were all shop lifters or, at least, minor criminals, of some sort. This sign then could be the start of big changes to clean up the place. It does, though, alienate a section of the drinking community. Come on, landlord, shop lifters and hawkers get thirsty too. Actually, I imagine that shop lifting is very thirsty work. I get dry in the mouth when a security guard stares at little innocent me, so imagine the thirst that must build up when you're actually on the rob. This ban on shop lifters could well backfire. Perhaps thirsty shop lifters, en route to the Fagin in their life, stop off here for a good eight pint session after doing the crime. I also imagine that many of them nip in for a quickie before the shop lifting commences - Dutch courage and all that. Think again, dear landlord. Whilst I applaud your desire to get fine, upstanding drinkers in your ale house I fear for your profit margins.

Small retailers are always complaining that big supermarkets are putting them out of business. I needed some cat litter (or, rather, the cats did, but I'm sure you worked that out for yourselves. Personally, I prefer to use a toilet rather than a tray full of bits of gravel and Guardian supplements) so thought I would show some support for the small retailer that trades as PAWS, which is not far from our house. PAWS could well be an acronym but I'm not sure what for, and there's no attempt at pointing out what it could be on the shop signage (Pets and Wet-look Snakes, perhaps?). Anyway, the woman in there was arranging a display of hamster straw when I walked in. "I'm after some cat litter." "We've got a big selection. It's right in front of you." They did have a big selection, all of it completely identical and all priced at £2.59 (over £1 more expensive than the usual cheapo stuff from Morrissons). I didn't mind paying the extra, it saved me a ride out in the car for a start. But let's put to rest the occasional point made by small retailers that they offer us that all important shopper's dream - choice. I had no choice beyond Bob Martin's Lightweight Litter, which this woman had obviously bought in a ridiculous bulk order from her supplier several years ago. Then, just to put me off returning, she complained that I wanted to use a £10 note to pay (This is a shop, for heaven's sake, get some change in your till). I tried to make the sour old cow laugh about having to handle paper money by muttering, "if you'll take the 80p I've got in my pocket in exchange for the litter it's a deal" but I'll swear she started looking about under the counter in an effort to locate the panic button that would see to the eviction of a troublesome sort like me.

3 comments:

Stephen Newton said...

The pub sign reminds me flying to the USA, where you have to sign a form declaring that you are not a terrorist or drug dealer.

bazza27 said...

You should let it go and shit in someone elses garden like both my bloody neighbours do.

Dave W said...

I used to live down a street that was plagued by excreting dogs and a neighbour of mine tackled the problem by stencilling the entire length of our side of the street with the words PLEASE TAKE YOUR DOG TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD FOR A SHIT.