Waitrose: Securing All Fruit

I should be blogging to 'explain' the rioting, but I'm letting the Guardian and the Daily Mail etc. etc. do that. That is, it's very difficult to separate explanations from celebrations of particular prejudices, isn't it?

Anyway, braving the yahs and yuppies went to Waitrose at the Wharf this morning to buy grapefruit. I like the red ones, I know, I know but they are part of my five-a-day and, at least, they aren't Boris or Barclay blue.

At the grapefruits, I chance upon some Chinese tourists who are taking pictures of the fruit and conversing. I try some very rusty mandarin, they laugh delightedly and they don't slap me [easily possible because tone-error changes question-mark into 'horse', for example].

Immediately arrives lady security guard, telling them that they are not allowed to take any pictures of fruit. I remonstrate and ask for her name. She replies [she has an east european accent and perhaps yearns for the good old days, although she is a youngish woman] that she is 'security' and cannot give me a name, obviously not, I think. So I ask for the name of her boss who is 'on holiday'. I ask where he works and she says that he is 'on holiday', not understanding that I want to know whether he is head-office or wharf. Finally I go away with a name, though she might have lied for 'security purposes'.

I used to admire and give a lot of custom to Waitrose, because of the partnership structure etc. but now, after this, it's demonstrating that it's just another sleazebag corporation with its best years behind it. I have a cooperative card now, perhaps we'll go there for grapefruit photography and purchase from henceforth, forward.