We’re walking to the bus stop when my housemate points and says ‘Waitrose’ – already I’m prepared for the worst.
I never feel comfortable in that place. They should have pictures of Jeremy Clarkson outside with a sign saying ‘You have to be at least this middle-class to enter’.
Not wanting to be the nay-sayer I agree and we begin wandering around looking for the basics for a lazy Sunday lunch so I amble over to the rotisserie chicken counter.
As a basic rule I am less and less surprised by what I see in supermarkets these days. Living in London anything goes in the local Safeway.
A sight I see more often than others is children eating.
Mothers too weary to fight with their nippers give up and let their child eat a packet of crisps as they walk round the store, presenting the empty bag to an annoyed cashier at the till to pay for it.
So – with that in mind – I’m waiting for my lemon and garlic whole chicken when a man sidles up to the counter next to me struggling to open a large box.
I turn my head to see what he’s doing just as he begins to sink his teeth into a Waitrose family size quiche.
I know that food shopping on an empty stomach is a bad idea but are you really that hungry?