FROM THE CRÈCHE FOR HUSBANDS

I’ve been left in the in-store Starbucks at Sainsbury’s. I think I’ve probably been doing too much moaning about the new layout, so I’ve been given this ‘treat’ while Sammy does the shopping.

The new Sainsbury’s is too bright. That’s all I’ll say about it. Oh and there are just too many words everywhere. And the aisles are too tall and too narrow. Honestly, some of them feel like the Shambles in York, looming overhangs of cereal and tea creating alleys that are just about wide enough for one and a half trolleys.

They would argue I suppose, that everything is now clearly labelled. Brilliant white screens (paper in front of a light box) blare at you from all directions, and luminous signs like ‘MEAT & DAIRY’ and ‘FOOD FOR NOW’ hang above the aisles, shouting at you, as though they ought to be in Tokyo - an effect that’s not diminished by the presence of an instant-sushi hut by the way. ‘Wok in Progress’. There’s never anyone in it whenever we go by.

Anyway, I said I wouldn’t talk about it. I’m in the Starbucks, feeling grizzly in the heat. It’s been relentless today - I am a sweaty mess, grumpy and snappy and conserving energy in the same way a colander might preserve some water.

Starbucks is grotty these days isn’t it? Sticky tables, tuneless music, plastic seats and wooden chairs. I don’t want to go on about that either. It is serving as a sort of crèche for overheating husbands, so at least it’s serving some sort of positive function.

I hope she’s alright out there with the trolley and the swirling public. I get to pay in a minute, so who knows what treats and offers the Queen of Snacks will have scooped up. Hopefully too, she hasn’t spent too long staring at the signs without her eclipse glasses on. Actually that’s quite a good shout for next time. Sunglasses at least.