On Good Friday morning I woke with a distinct hankering for hot cross buns. "Well we haven't got any," announced the other half of the bed.
"In that case, I'll go down to Tesco Express and see if they've had a little more foresight than we have," I replied.
"Huh! There's no way they'll have any left." Did I detect a tone of triumph?
Now, I'm not sure what I think about Tesco, but one thing I do like about them is that they really do try to give people what they want. In fact they seem to know what you want before even you know. Many a time I have wandered round one of their stores and been struck by a brand-new desire: tinned tomatoes that were organically grown in Andalusia; a kitchen towel that is not only moderately absorbent but is also printed with the colours of the England football team; mature cheddar cheese bejewelled with mint choc chips, and so on. The amazing thing is that very often, shortly after being struck with one of these strange desires, I come across its satisfaction prominently displayed on an aisle end.
So, anyway, I threw on what oddments of clothing the floor-drobe offered and skipped down to Tesco Express in search of hot cross buns. They had a whole, specially constructed cardboard rack of them in two varieties. It was then I noticed something very strange: the staff were dressed even more outlandishly than I was; for some reason Tesco had decided that Good Friday was Blues Brothers day and had clad its staff accordingly.
I took my precious hot cross buns to the counter where the checkout lady was only in half-hearted costume: black tie and white shirt under a Tesco uniform top.
"Blues Brothers day, eh?" I hailed her cheerfully. She merely winced, definitely not in the spirit of Belushi and Ackroyd. "And the connection with Easter?" I probed. She just raised her eyes to heaven, bleeped my buns and said nothing. I ran through the possible connections between Easter and The Blues Brothers: the beginning of Spring, the crucifixion of Christ, general exuberance? Nothing worked, and I have never worked out this mystery.
Of course, mentioning Tesco in Crediton is always risky. A number of people I have met have come round to the subject eventually and they are very non-commital until they know my views. I have come to the conclusion that if you oppose Tesco you are probably arty, nostalgic or old; everyone else is in favour. All I know is that when Tesco opened a huge store in our neighbourhood in Bristol in the late eighties about half of the local shops shut over the next three years. The ones that stayed open were - in the main - the ones that were any good. After a few years new local shops started opening, but they were selling different things: hair-cuts and meals mainly.
I find it hard to get passionate about the issue. I'm an Aldi and Lidl man myself. Build a couple of those and I'd be more than happy.
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