TFC supermarket, london

From: Fatz
Category: Other stuff
Date: 04 November 2003


I was examining tomatoes, to find those at the stage of optimum ripeness and undamagedness, when to my horror I saw what appeared to be a pile of mouse droppings in the bottom of the box. Quelle horreur! Next I was strolling the aisles ruminating on which vegetables would satisfy my hunger and desire for tastiness that week, when a rumpus erupted between the staff and a mad looking man who had done something untoward with a bag of semolina. Much shouting and denials ensued, until a butcher, cashier and shelf stacker had forced the wid haired man out of the shop, perhaps to wander forever the desolate beautiful Wanstead flats, bemoaning injustice, crying in the wilderness.

Finally, with considerable bravery and for the first time, I went to the meat counter to get some lamb mince for my evening's Tacos. The friendly Butcher scooped up the worms of lambs with his bare hand and plonked them into a flimsy plastic bag on the scale. Actually make that a pound I said, resolutely. Once again his hairy hand reached under the cling film to grab more mince.

Happy days, happy people, dinner was fine.