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Greetings blog chum.
You will be pleased to hear that I mainly did two things today. Firstly I took Naughty George on a long walk, and then I did my weekly shopping. Obviously the first activity was enjoyable, but the second was always going to be a chore because I HATE any form of shopping (with the exception of cars and gadgets).
And to make matters worse, today I did my shopping at the Sainsbury's Supermarket in Oxford (Heyford Hill area).
Under normal circumstances, I would never visit Sainsbury's because their customer service is total pants.
But I make an exception to brazen it out bi-weekly, simply because they have a load of immigrant Polish chaps working in the car park who will clean your car with their tongues, and only charge 50p.
Back to the supermarket - I was in the store for an hour today and spent £120.14. And because I am kinder than Mild Green Fairy Liquid, here are a few of the more notable customer service incidences that I encountered during my visit ..........
I couldn't find any veal. So I asked a spotty employee who couldn't have been more than ten years old.
"I think it's over there," he said pointing vaguely at a location over my shoulder.
"Could you show me please?" I asked, getting a definite snot on.
The pimpled youth walked over to a random shelf and looked around a bit (in a none purposeful manner) before concluding, "sorry we don't do veal."
"Do you have a butcher's counter I can try?" I asked in an exasperated fashion.
"Down there," pimply youth said vaguely pointing towards the end of the aisle.
I arrived, and waited at the butcher's counter for 5 minutes, whilst the "butcher" (I use that term loosely) pissed around sharpening a knife. He finally put it away and turned to me, saying "yes?"
"Do you sell veal?" I asked.
"What?" he replied.
"Don't you mean pardon? I am looking to buy some veal. You know, the meat from a baby cow."
"Never heard of it," the butcher said shaking his head. If he was a butcher, I'm Cindy Crawford.
What can you say? A butcher who has never heard of veal?! That's Sainsbury's for you. So I gave up on the veal and continued my shop. This time I needed Fennel and Pak Choi (yep, I am going through a 'eat weird shit' stage). I spent 20 minutes hunting around the vegetable aisles and couldn't find them because the layout in Sainsbury's is rubbish.
Eventually I resorted to interrupting two employees who were having a good gossip.
"Excuse me, could you tell me where I can find fennel and pak choi?" I asked.
I was slightly taken aback by the fact that they both looked pissed off at being interrupted. Stroppy guy no.1 just looked at the floor. At least guy no. 2 had the decency to make eye contact before saying, "you need to go to the next aisle along, second shelf down," before turning his back on me and continuing his conversation.
He didn't physically show me the way - oh no. I had to use his general instructions in order to find what I needed. Which added another 10 minutes onto my supermarket trip. Oh yeh, at this point, I was properly hating everything Sainsbury's.
But I tried to be philosophical about it - I had got most of what was on my list, and all I needed to do was pay.
But yet again, Sainsbury's made the process as painful as watching an episode of Jersey Shore.
The bloody bastards had skimped on the checkout staff, so there were HUGE queues of people spilling into the aisles from all of the operational tills.
To put it
