Yesterday I stole a packet of sandpaper from B&Q. I casually secreted it beneath a bag of manure in my trolley and luckily, as my till technician had a lazy eye and non-specific fatigue, my ‘error’ went unchecked. Feeling brazen, today, I rode the train without a ticket. Who knows, tomorrow I might kill someone. Watch this space!
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Anna, that is naughty!
Yes, I know. It all started with a small lump of ginger in the supermarket. Who knows where it might end? I am currently landscaping the front garden and need rather a lot of stones as it’s going to be an arid garden in the style of a Mexican desert. Dirk is already suggesting I go to Shoreham Beach with a lorry. I am thinking B&Q so, as you can see, I’ve not lost all my morals.
With most of the population permanently scrounging and nicking everything that is not nailed down and the corporate fatcats lining their pockets with the fruits of our labour i thought you would be the one to make a stand for honesty. You know what to do.. hand yourself in at the nearest police station and face the consequences as well as destroying half a tree and using 30 man/hours of time with the paperwork.
Dear Anna
Having almost boiled with indignation upon learning that you consider B&Q somehow a measure of moral rectitude I feel I must finally lose my blogging virginity and hang the consequences! A good friend (who refuses to be named for fear of reprisals) worked at B&Q for more years than is healthy for any mother of 3. The litany of horrors I will now share will, I’m sure,disturb you. As an employee she regularly underwent full bag and body searches (probably for stones), was told she was ‘too young to work in aggregates’, subjected to DIY ‘Beasting’ ceremonies involving nipple grease and a crevice nozzle (she’s still too ashamed to speak about it) and all this for 20p an hour and an orange tabardI
Remember our parents fought for (possibly on) that beach so that when our pelvic floors finally gave way and we slipped into middle age we could go down there with our recycled B&Q carrier bag fill it to bursting with pea gravel and innocently saunter back to our little piece of England! Zip and hollow!
Oh, I do like a virgin, of any description, so welcome Dave, and a big thank you for your deliciously frank expose of our nation’s favourite employer of the old – I just pop one in the front of my trolley – it’s amazing how many aisles they can go before needing the toilet. Can I just add that it is nigh on impossible to ‘saunter’ anywhere with a bag of pea gravel. I have a prolapsed womb, thanks to my recent garden make-over. However, I now have a smashing front-of-house and girdles are back in fashion anyway so it’s all been worth it.