I have a lot of pet hates, as you will be aware if you ever get to know me or mistakenly read more than one of the items I write. I may even by now have made your list of pet hates.

Just been to the local supermarket. It’s perched on a plot of land on the outskirts of the town. Well, of course, it is. Generally, they all are. It is how the High Streets met their untimely end and became what they are today in many places up and down the country. Streets of Barbers, hairdressers, coffee shop shops, branded and unbranded, fast food joints, empty shops and of course the ubiquitous charity shops. Rarely are a butcher’s, bakers, Green Grocers to be seen.

The supermarket is pretty high on my list of pet hates for the damage it has caused our towns and the trade’s people whose lives it has decimated. Not to mention the heritage it has stolen from children whose futures were to work in the family shop.

In the Supermarket, I have a deftness of purpose knowing where the single item I have come to purchase is to be found. But halfway down aisle 6 on the right towards the top shelf I realise it is not there! –“Bugger me sideways”- It’s been merchandised. “It’s been what?” I hear you ask.

Turns out when we get familiar with where to find things and are no longer looking at everything shiny and knew like a kleptomaniac on day release from the asylum, but are blinkered and single-minded to buy what we want; they move it. They call it merchandising so we have to be aware of our surroundings and are tricked into buying more than we came for. So there you have it merchandising on is my list of pet hates, but today it was much worse.

With a change of weather in the air and the chill of the night ahead, there was a reason for this fervent merchandising activity. It is in preparation of a festive time ahead, beginning with letter “C.” I shall not spell its name whilst it is still October, as it has no place for another 2 months other than to be in memory for its annual usage.

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But no matter, I was not swayed. I purchased my single item; oh and the mince pies do taste very good this year and such value. No, they got me! I bought bloody mince pies too.

About the author: Tom Driver

Disillusioned and back in the closet man who likes other men.

Strongly opinionated, possibly outdated. Genuine, cynical, candid and consider I have a humourous outlook.

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Older than acceptable in Gay circles, larger of frame than is fashionably desirable.

Looking for a platform to share my views and listen to others

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