In the toilet...

Rich Lusmore, who writes two fine blogs - A Game in Four Quarters and Let's Go Round Again - and used to contribute weekly sports reports to a newspaper I reputedly sub-edited, paid me (which I don't think we ever did him) a lovely compliment the other day. He reckons I inspired him. Which does make me question his sanity somewhat but, well, what a lovely thing to say. Rich, having read here of my plans to fill in the blanks in my reading, is re-visiting his entire music collection. Which is what Let's Go Round Again is all about. It's a great idea and I wish I'd thought of it. One to watch, I think - good luck in your kerazey mission Mr L!

In other news, we went in Hull's city centre Tesco today (the store where our neighbour Mary claims that prices are artificially high in comparison to other Tesco outlets, despite never having been in the place and, from what we can gather, doing all of her shopping at Waitrose).

Following the Christmas reshuffle, one aisle is now home to the entire Value line. Which is all well and good and very sensible, I suppose, but makes said range of el cheapo and ultra-affordable products and their white space-laden packaging look even more anemic and unappealing than when surrounded by more expensive brand-name counterparts. At least I know where to go for my favourite 14p can of beans.

Hopping mad...

I enjoyed reading this the other day. Especially "invisibility is a super power".

I was sorting through my badly organised filing system and came across a letter someone wrote to me back in January. "If you were to write a sequel," it goes, "you could call it 'On Another Shout'."

I was in Tesco at lunch and, within seconds of entering the store, was accosted by one of their employees. "Do you have a Tesco club card?" "No, I'm not interested and I have an issue with your employer wanting to share my personal details and buying habits across its companies." "So you don't really shop in Tesco?" "I didn't say that. I'm in here all of the time thanks to your two-for-one deals on Ginsters pasties and your very affordable baby wipes. I said I have an issue with the concept of your club cards." "Okay sir, that's fine, you don't have to have one." That's good news. If only they didn't have to keep asking me whether I had one. Funny thing on Doo You about the cards - apparently, they provide "Tesco with information on customers hopping habits etc."

Cheap as chips...

More fun at the checkouts. I was trying to purchase two bags of tortilla chips in Tesco, retailing at just under a quid. They wouldn't scan. "These aren't going through," said the slip of a checkout girl. She called for a manager. The manager clocked the chips and said, "Oh, yes, those are 73 pence. So if I add that up..."

Long Pinteresque pause.

Checkout girl: "73 and...73...erm..."
Manager: "So if we put in...erm...£1.48. Is that right?"
Checkout girl: "73...um...um...erm..."
Manager: "£1.46. That's it! That's the right amount!"
Checkout girl: "£1.46?"
Manager: "£1.46. That's cheap for two bags of those, isn't it?"
Checkout girl: "Erm...um...erm."

I love Tesco, it's soooooooo entertaining.

Tags: Tesco

Checkout man...

I’m in Tesco, buying a snack for lunch. It ends up being a piece of pastry containing chicken and mushroom. So I head to the checkouts, carrying my single item, walk past the self-checkout checkout due to my adverse reaction to the increasingly automated world that is being forced upon us and decide that, as everywhere else is a tad busy, I’ll make for the basket aisle. There are two “basket only” checkouts at the Tesco in Beverley, each of which had a person being served at them. And stood between both of the check-outs, but a good 6 foot back from where a normal queue would start at either, was a man clutching a basket. He was hedging his bets, quite obviously, and refusing to stand in one queue just in case the other moved faster. So I simply took matters into my own hands, walked past him, and plonked myself behind the person stood at the till on the right. “Excuse me,” came the feeble voice, “I think you’ll find that I’m ahead of you in the queue.” “Well, why are you stood right back there?” “It’s where I always stand.” So, rather than run the risk of confrontation I stepped away from the queue and stood next to him. “You always stand here?” I muttered in disbelief, “I’ve met people like you before. You won’t commit to one queue or the other, so you stand in both. Don’t you think that’s a rather selfish thing to do?” He smiled the smile that only a man who stands in two queues simultaneously can smile. The person at the queue I had jumped to almost the front of was now ready to move. “I’m stood in this queue,” said my new enemy, and moved to the front of the queue. By which time quite a crowd had gathered, so I moved the queue right next to this double queue lovin’ man. He packed his bag and then had the nerve to look at me, laugh, say “see ya!” and give me a little wave as he skipped away. I found myself hoping that the bottom would fall out of his carrier bag. It was at this point that I realised that I’d met this man before – he’s the one that forms a single queue at cash points and fast food outlets. You’ve met him too, haven’t you?

Nuts...

Interesting allergy advice on the side of a bottle of Tesco Apple & Raspberry spring water:

Recipe: No nuts
Ingredients: Cannot guarantee nut free
Factory: No nuts

So, with a recipe containing no nuts and munufactured in a factory containing no nuts, Tesco cannot guarantee that nuts aren't being slipped somewhere in the mix. Or is it Tesco customers, or even their supermarket staff, who are slyly slackening the lids on spring water and dropping the odd cashew in here and there?

I am not up to much but the writing after a few hectic days of real life. We are calming down here now after a dehydrated M had to spend some time in hospital to refuel, be poked and prodded by heavy-handed doctors and avoid contracting MRSA. She is fine now and the baby was never in any trouble. Aside from the all the worry of not quite knowing what was wrong initially, we had a nice thirty minutes when M was undergoing various tests listening to a prolonged mix of his little heartbeat via the miracle of ultrasound.

Fired off a redraft of On A Shout tonight. A week later than planned after last weekend's near meltdown (which followed the loss of a bag containing a hard copy of the script which was, rather predicitably, covered in all the notes I needed) and a subsequent rethink of where the play was going. It seems in good shape to me now and is all ready for a reading. As for me, I feel none of the elation that completing a draft usually brings, instead I just feel ready for curling into a ball in a place far, far away and not surfacing until 2010 at the earliest.

My Leeds experience is over and a new one, in Beverley, has begun. All work that might, one day, actually start making a dent in the mound of outstanding bills. I would, of course, prefer to be writing full-time. But, at the same time, I'm not going to apologise for having to earn a living once in a while.

Tags: pregnancy, Tesco, writing, On A Shout