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In the supermarket world Waitrose is the preserve of grannies, yummie mummies and the well off. I’d been tempted in there on Thursday evening by their easter egg adverts, looking for one of the Mr Potato Head ones for Boy.

But despite its impression as a genteel place to shop, the easter egg aisle was like a rugby scrum, as the posh people fought for the last of the easter eggs. Shopping trolleys were jammed against each other and anyone foolish enough to get in their way, sharp elbows used as weapons of war jabbing other shoppers and small children alike, and shopping baskets were swung round in a manner designed to fend off anyone diving for the last, hand decorated, peruvian chocolate, nut sprinkled, £15 egg. Fights were literally about to break out as shoppers fought desperately not to be left with some common or garden, mass produced chocolate egg.

It was nasty, I tell you, nasty.

Creme eggs eaten this year: 5 8 ~ is this high or low?
Easter eggs given this year: 1 ~ to Boy, who got a common or garden mass produced egg, with extra chocolate
Avoiding Waitrose: until the hordes have gone

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 23rd, 2008 at 8:05 pm and is filed under London, Coffee. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.