Shopping trolleys and Super Markets

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Sabre, May 13, 2005.

Welcome to the Army Rumour Service, ARRSE

The UK's largest and busiest UNofficial military website.

The heart of the site is the forum area, including:

  1. Why is it when going to a super market, its like taking your life in your hands , while trying to balance on a car roof thats doing the WRC ralley.

    Let me explain.

    The whole concept of going food shopping is starting to get beyond a joke.

    It all starts before you even get into the store. When you arrive at the car park, its all full of idiots driving along at one of 2 speeds, either at the speed of light waiting for a car to leave a spot thats so close the door they may as well reverse up to the checkouts, or toddling along at 0.5 mph in a world of there own.

    Theres a sign in the car parks that state cars left at owners risk, This is there not because of a another car hitting it, But beacuse of the MMMMLLLAAAAARRRRRRR ing trolley collector called Malcom who whilst pushing 30 trolleys at once with his little strap will quite easily knock ya wing mirror off and kick it under your car.

    Then there is the pedestrians to deal with , Again there are 2 sorts, the one who are so wrapped up in there own little world that they step infront of the car and expect you to give way, they think they are invinceable to anything hitting them, and give a sly smile as you jam on ya brakes and wave to say thanks .......
    Then there are the other ones dragging there brats kicking and screaming across the car park, the people in this case are trying not to look embarassed and proceed to have a yelling match at the kids whilst stopped in the middle of the pelican crossing!

    When you all converge on the main entrance, thats when the real battle starts , as every one picks there weapon of choice, a basket, or a trolley, there are pro's and cons to both of these which shall be explained as we continue this rant.

    Once armed you start to browse past the fruit and veg isle, stopping off to see grown blokes squeezing the mellons, , apples , oranges, onions, whilst imagining its some part of a sordid porno flick.

    Moving further round it starts to become more hazardous, as people leave there trolleys anywhere whilst they have going to the other side of the shop for a bottle of coke

    Why they couldnt take there trolley with them is beyond comprehension as the que waiting to get past is now backed up out of the main door.

    There are kids climbing the shelves (thinking it s a new waky warehouse!) to try and get what ever it is on the top shelf or even placing stuff in the trolley they dont want and the parents just pretend that the kids is not with them, Until the slagging match continues between parent and kid.

    A man who doesnt like shopping can be blatantly seen at this point, either zipping round the store with his hand basket, Running then diving on the trolley as though he is doing push starts for an olympic bobsleigh team or slouching with a look of boredom on his face praying this is some kind of joke from candid camera/youve been framed.

    Then you meet the other kind of shopper, The social shopper.
    These are the one that infuriate you the most, as they are always in the store at the same time every week and know half of the other customers. They have a habit of stopping abruptly directly infront of you, then becoming instantly deaf to all other sounds than yakking to a friend they seen in isle 6, 2 mins previously. Not only do they ignore you when asked to move, but have a habit of standing right in the center of the isle so no trolleys can pass either side of them.

    Whilst getting ratty with them a little old biddy , who wouldnt say boo to a goose out side the store, now has horns on her head, and ramming the trolley into the backs of your ankles, and you cant have a go at her, as she puts on a innocent face, knowing full well that malcom the trolley collector will beat you to a inch of ya life for a half sucked mint imperial she has offered him.

    Once you have contended with all this Now its time for the checkout.

    Some spotty nosed litte freak, zipping things through the scanner at such a rate of knots that you can hear the sound barrier being broken with each item. They have no regard for the items you are buying, and will always scan crisps first before pilling the rest of your shopping on top of it.
    The have a look on the face like a slapped arse, and low betide any one who buys booze as you then have to wait for someone over 18 to authorise the sale!

    Back out to the car and dodging all the cars with your wonky wheelied trolley that has magnet secreated into inthe metal causing it to be jerked towards every metal object going, and Malcom giving you a wave and a MMLLLAARRR, as another wing mirror comes off someone elses car. Back onto the road and some sanity, Before realising you have forgotten soap power and have to do it all over again.

    Or am i just being cynical?

  2. The best thing to do with these people is too move there trolly away from where they left it. Ill tell you from experiance it brightens up your whole shopping experiance watching them hunting for it

  3. I like to watch the elderly try and a] bend over far enough to get the can goods off the bottom shelf or b] try and reach up to the top shelf for the box of granola cereal without toppling the display..

    I enjoy the sight of the women perusing the produce aisle while surrepticiously plucking grapes off the displays and stuffing them in their mouths..

    Nothing funnier than the kids pulling the box of biscuits from the bottom of the artfully stacked display like a game of janga trying not to topple the whole shebang

    or how about the minimum wage loser stuck behind the cardboard stand, dressed in rubber gloves and a hairnet handing out ' free samples' of the latest chemical food substitute smeared on a cracker...

    The guy rushing about ' helping' the wife, list in hand without a clue where anything is but too macho to ask the clerk - if you can find one not out back on a smoke break -

    check out is the best.. there's always someone in front of you who has a product that hasn't a price sticker or whose barcode won't scan and you have to wait while the guy on smoke break gets called up to do a ' price check ' - and its usually the new kid who doesn't know what aisle the stufdf is in anyway...

    fortunately, help is on the way.. now the supermarket gurus have announced that you can pay for your goods without a credit/debit card.. having previously established a link to your bank account with the food chain you can just use your thumbprint to ' activate' the transaction.. This, they say, will save the ' average shopper ' 40 seconds at the checkout over the ' old' methods...

    Computerized tracking and scanning ' second wave ' technology is now being tested whereby you wheel up to the checkout.. lasers scan your buggy and read the codes, etc. right in the cart and price your order without having to take it out put it one the conveyer and repack it..some manufacturers are going to microchips rather than using the UPC system, agqain for faster ' processing ' and ' convenience' [ not yours, of course ]

    or, you could just go online, order the stuff and have that pimple faced, body pierced loser of a school drop out deliver the food to your door...

    oh, yeah.. ranting about shopping is fun...

    SIGH - that felt better...
  4. And why, when you buy a pot of Vaseline for a perfectly innocent reason, do you feel that all the other shoppers are exchanging knowing looks....?
  5. On entering a crowded supermarket carpark with a full trolley, wheel it around aimlessly like you have forgotten where you have parked until you have attracted a number of drivers looking for a spot. This is where the fun begins! With a convoy of angry drivers behind you, go down every lane and then start ducking between parked cars. When only the hard core parkers are remaining, find your car, slowly pack your shopping away, have a smoke, scratch your arrse,etc, and then explain "I'm sorry, but I forgot something" and then go back inside. The resultant shouting and abuse almost makes your trip to the cnut of a place worthwhile.
  6. Obviously because you havent bought it for a perfectly innocent reason. :wink:
  7. Tell me I'm not the only one here who has spotted the easy way out..

    Send the missus shopping while you stay home and Rant, about how the missus always wastes your money, on ARRSE.
  8. Listy,

    You are in no position to complain about shopping experiances.

    You're so fat, you fill half the aisle. :D
  9. A good one to draw death stares in a supermarket check out is to "borrow" a kid (if you haven't got your own) and sit him in a trolley , then pile the trolley up above the gunwhales with booze ... and put a packet of nappies on top.

    just before checking out , pinch the kid , so it cries and make a big show of not having quite enough to pay ... then pass the nappies to the checkout mong and say he can have them back , as their not needed.

    sit back and bask in the hatred :D

    i did this with my little nephew and he played his part to perfection even managing to fill his keks in the queue.
  10. napier

    napier LE Moderator Reviewer

  11. Lmao, thats enough to make you want to get the snip!!

    those cold days of warming myself in the Antenna fields have really paid off :)
  12. Do they drive their cars like they do the shopping trolley 8O

    Scary, very scary........
  13. Mrs Snapper ....................... from the other side

    It can only be a man or male species that can complain about going on a shopping expedition, with his full months hard earned beer tokens in pocket ready for the OIC or rather WIC to expand on frivolous items such as food, nappies and other domestic type items...............

    But speaking as one of those delightful store slaves.....................Why do normally sensible people....

    Whine like sh*t when all checkouts are open and there isn’t any more staff or checkouts for them to use,

    Stand and chunter in the q cos although all checkouts are pinging at a rate of knots they don’t have 5 minutes to stand there and wait there turn, is the world gonna end or something...

    That manky old pie you bought three weeks ago and are now trying to return to the store just so u can prove a point about the fact that when u bought it, it was in perfectly good nick but when u came to eat it, it jumped out of the fridge at ya, 3 weeks old? Course it’s gonna jump............... :eek:

    That pot of Vaseline hiding amongst the baked beans on the belt ........ We know, u knows... :wink:

    Why ask for something that isn’t on the shelf.... Surely ya don’t actually want us to go get it 8O

    Close checkouts when it’s busy? Too right boys, its me nails need doin don’t they :twisted:

    Wonky Trolleys, they aint wonky, bl**dy male drivers........... :roll:
  14. RTFQ


    Supermarkets are the ultimate analogy of modern married life and life in general - each one is it's own Plato's Cave. You don't like supermarkets? You're the one that married some gripper (thus tacitly approving of her poor driving and mis-wired brain) then you bred 3 demonic ankle biters and pumped them full of e numbers, teletubbies and tartrazine for the first 5 years of their life (and feck my little black pumps, they turned out mental!) then you decided that happiness was a 4 bedroom semi in Surrey that consumes more resources than a small aircraft carrier - you don't need a Tesco's, you need a RFA resup ship. You made the life you trudge up and down some aisle, all the while being sedated by the colours and piped-in smells, wandering how you went from being a DPM, hell-raising shagnasty that the even the Russians baulked at fighting - to becoming Homer Simpson without the laughs. Not my problem sunshine.

    Next time you're in the local asylum-cum-supermarket, look to the right of the line of checkouts. I'll be the one building a mealy-bag wall around the express aisle and handing out Martini Henry rifles to the sad singlies in the queue clutching their cheap dvd, dandruff shampoo and impossibly ambitious 12-pack of condoms ("ribbed for her pleasure" - aka "lasts longer in your wallet"). The vacant looking, yet smutily attractive (in a morally apathetic way) check out girl will be our standard bearer and we'll make the pretty young professional in the Balsamic vinegar aisle our Boudiccea - she'll ride on a chariot made from those stupid 3-wheel 'off road' push chairs that are bought by people who own sports utilty vehicles but who themselves do no sport and whose only utility is adding to the oxygen debt.

    Join me, you know you want to. They can take our credit cards, dignity and playboy ambitions, but they can never take our feedom! Unless they use the following verbal tactics:

    "Where are you going?"
    "Out with the lads"
    "What's wrong?"
    "I told you about this last week"
    "I know, I was looking forward to a nice quiet night in with you and I was going to cook you...<sigh> Oh, I'm being silly, don't worry - have a good time"
    "We can have a quiet night in tomorrow"
    "Oh it doesn't matter, i was just being silly. Go and have a drink with 'the guys' <that voice> you've earnt it, I'll be fine really...I love you, you do know that don't you?"
    "Look, I don't mind going out with the lads another time, to tell the truth I'm a bit tired"
    "Noooo-ooo, I don't want to turn you into some boring under-the-thumb husband, I'll be fine"
    "No, i'm staying because I <emphasis> want to"
    "I wub you fwuffy bunny"
    "I wub you too fwuffikins"

    Cue night in front of Emmerdale, Corrie, Eastenders, the Bill and something with 'celebrities' with fish fingers, chips and a warm can of fosters.
  15. All this cynicism is most disturbing. Living deep in the heart of Poshland, my local Sainsbury's is the retail equivalent of 'Hello' magazine where I get to ogle and leer at top-end celebrity gash on a weekly basis, and it's even better if I accesorize by talking little daughter chickenpunk (3 years old next week), as she acts as an invisibility device when I'm stalking Liz Hurley up the biscuit aisle.