I really don't know how I'd cope without a 24 hour Tesco near by. Sometimes, when I pop in for some Gherkins at 01:15 on a Friday, I wonder how people coped before Tesco was open all the time. And I've heard there are people in the Third World, or Levenshulme, as Mancunians know it as, that don't even have a Tesco let alone one that is open 24 hours. I think this is one of the major social injustices of the world today and have already contacted Mick Hucknall to see if he can use his influence to organise a Live8 style concert to raise awareness of those people who do not have a Tesco. Rick Astley has already agreed to play.

Normally, when I go and get a carton of milk on the way to work, the night shift is just ending and the only people in the store are me and Bernard the cashier who always asks me for "One hundred and eleven of your hard earned pennies please." And I give him my Maestro card. Apart from today. Today it was hammered. There wasn't enough room to swing a USB vacuum cleaner.

And with it being Christmas, everyone shopped with a smile on their face and a song in their heart. Which stopped as soon as they picked up their trolley, and then they turned into monsters.

"You Fucking Bastard! You know I don't want to go to your Mother's and yet you always bring it up. Just fucking leave it alone." she screamed at a tracksuit clad man as a vein in her forehead pulsed, putting an undue strain on her Croyden facelift.
"Look, I can't get Double Cream flavoured with Cointreau... Yes, I'm not an idiot, I am looking there and there's none... If you don't believe me then maybe you should've got your lazy ass out of bed and come here yourself... Ill? Drinking 10 pints last night does not qualify you for a food parcel from the World Health Organisation..." Mobiles are fun ways to stay in touch with family.

I stand behind 18 people in the 10 items or less queue. Half an hour later I get closer to the front. An un-named work colleague, stands at the back of the queue and waves. She points to her watch, making the international signal for "How long is this going to take?". I shrug my shoulders making the international signal for "I am French and I don't care." (This may have lost something in translation - I believe it can also be used for "I don't know".)

After a good 15 minutes queuing, I am now at the front of the queue. My colleague motions to me seeing if she can put her bottle of Scotch in my basket. However, this would require her to queue jump.

Queue jumping!!! HOW DARE SHE!!!
What would the baby Jesus think of this?

And with that, a merry Christmas to you all.