Peter Gets Retarded
Although I am a reasonably intelligent young man (I can tie my own shoelaces and count to ten in my head), I am often prone to substantial lapses of judgement when pressed with practical issues to solve. I make judgement errors even a Foetal Alcoholic Down's Syndrome kid who'd been dropped out of a tree would consider borderline retarded.
I lived in Croydon for around a year once. I grew weary of the only supermarket near to me, Aldi - serving up pikey food for the kind of pikey people you find leaving in West Croydon. I hate Aldi. They do everything in their power to drain the life out of their customers - you even have to pay for carrier bags.
I knew there was an ASDA somewhere in Croydon. Its promise of decent, edible food lured me constantly. Sadly, I didn't know where exactly the store was and Croydon's traffic system was deliberately designed to cause confusion based aneurisms to any motorists unwise enough to attempt to use it.
One Saturday afternoon I happened to be driving in the general area I knew my hidden treasure to be. Fate provided me with a perfect opportunity to end my quest - an ASDA lorry pulled out from traffic lights in front of me. I gave chase, ran a couple of pedestrian crossings and tucked myself up behind the lorry. At the worst, I reasoned, I would find myself at the goods entrance to the store - it would be within my grasp. I would eat like a king.
I cruised happily along in my beaten up Escort, dreaming of the wealth of steak, chicken and steak I would buy when I reached my destination. The sun shone down on me, my car and my happy, food based thoughts. All was good with the world.
The truck took my usual journey to work - through Purley and past a Safeways I hadn't noticed in the two months I had been driving that route. I didn't care, Safeways sucks compared to ASDA. Up the hill by the big model plane and then through Coulsdon I went. ASDA was a lot further away than I thought.
45 minutes after first sighting, when the lorry pulled onto the M23 I realised I had been wildly mislead as to the positioning of ASDA within Croydon's limits. Still no problem, I was still on track and could stop in after work without trouble.
Shortly after this, my quarry turned West onto the M25 and my error sank in. I had been following the truck away from ASDA for the last 15 miles. I turned around at the next junction and headed home. It started to rain.
I found ASDA around three months later. The one in Croydon sucks. I pledged allegiance to Safeway for the remainder of my stay in Croydon, then returned to Nottingham a wiser, unhealthier man. In fairness I was less healthy thanks to a years worth of constant drinking rather than malnutrition but I at least partly blame the drinking on ASDA, and now Wal-Mart. I knew it was the fucking Americans fault from day one.
I lived in Croydon for around a year once. I grew weary of the only supermarket near to me, Aldi - serving up pikey food for the kind of pikey people you find leaving in West Croydon. I hate Aldi. They do everything in their power to drain the life out of their customers - you even have to pay for carrier bags.
I knew there was an ASDA somewhere in Croydon. Its promise of decent, edible food lured me constantly. Sadly, I didn't know where exactly the store was and Croydon's traffic system was deliberately designed to cause confusion based aneurisms to any motorists unwise enough to attempt to use it.
One Saturday afternoon I happened to be driving in the general area I knew my hidden treasure to be. Fate provided me with a perfect opportunity to end my quest - an ASDA lorry pulled out from traffic lights in front of me. I gave chase, ran a couple of pedestrian crossings and tucked myself up behind the lorry. At the worst, I reasoned, I would find myself at the goods entrance to the store - it would be within my grasp. I would eat like a king.
I cruised happily along in my beaten up Escort, dreaming of the wealth of steak, chicken and steak I would buy when I reached my destination. The sun shone down on me, my car and my happy, food based thoughts. All was good with the world.
The truck took my usual journey to work - through Purley and past a Safeways I hadn't noticed in the two months I had been driving that route. I didn't care, Safeways sucks compared to ASDA. Up the hill by the big model plane and then through Coulsdon I went. ASDA was a lot further away than I thought.
45 minutes after first sighting, when the lorry pulled onto the M23 I realised I had been wildly mislead as to the positioning of ASDA within Croydon's limits. Still no problem, I was still on track and could stop in after work without trouble.
Shortly after this, my quarry turned West onto the M25 and my error sank in. I had been following the truck away from ASDA for the last 15 miles. I turned around at the next junction and headed home. It started to rain.
I found ASDA around three months later. The one in Croydon sucks. I pledged allegiance to Safeway for the remainder of my stay in Croydon, then returned to Nottingham a wiser, unhealthier man. In fairness I was less healthy thanks to a years worth of constant drinking rather than malnutrition but I at least partly blame the drinking on ASDA, and now Wal-Mart. I knew it was the fucking Americans fault from day one.
posted by Peter O'Phile at
9:58 pm
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