Going shopping

If anyone hasn’t worked this out yet, I do not like going to the supermarket.

So the other day we had one of those conversations where we argued discussed who had gone last, and therefore whose turn it was to go now.

Naturally I pulled the winning card out. I can’t possibly carry 2 x 2 litre bottles of a water, a six pack of sparkling mineral water (in glass bottles), a six pack of tonic water….And I added helpfully, “You don’t like the bread from the village shop.”

So off he went. Up the track, across the river, and off to the boring old hypermarket.

Fortunately it was relatively empty. They have some new tills now. The sort where they can serve two people at once. Having dealt with Reluctant Shopping Partner, the cashier then went onto the next customer.

“Pasa por aquí,” she said. “Tiene Travel?”

The short dumpy Spanish woman with dark dyed hair looked at her bemused. (Partner and the cashier both knew she was Spanish because she looked exactly like all the women in our village, who have all been cloned).

Partner twigged. “She wants to serve you. Move up to the till. And do you have the supermarket loyalty card?”

“Oh, thanks,” said the short dumpy non-Spaniard with dark dyed hair. “I hadn’t a clue what she was saying.”

“They normally speak English,” she added.

“No, they don’t,” argued Partner. “Emma speaks English, and a few of the others can say numbers and please and thank you.”

“Well, it’s so difficult. Why don’t they all speak English?”

Aaaaaaaagh. No wonder people get racked off with the British. Two weeks holiday on the Costa del Sol, you shouldn’t need perfect Spanish. But this woman has been here the same number of years as us, more or less.

“Would you expect someone in a shop in the UK to speak fluent French, German, Polish, or Rumanian?” said Partner, warming to his theme. “Why don’t you speak Spanish?”

“I have no interest in speaking Spanish,” she declared loftily. “I live here because of the sun.”

People like that really piss me off. How rude.

She was obviously a BWM (Brit with money). Her trolley was heaving with spirits and wine, expensive food, frozen food. Nothing else. It cost her well over 100€. In comparison Partner spent around 40€ of which 20€ was for a 5 litre bottle of extra virgin olive oil. The rest of it was staples, bread, pasta, rice (OK that was organic and he bought two), a couple of six packs of beer and a bottle of wine.

I condescended to go out to the veg man in the afternoon when he turned up. Now this is my style of shopping. Man comes to door and I wander out to peruse goods. Said goods are cheap and fresh.

Actually Partner was sitting on the terrace. The veg man drew up and sounded his horn. “GO BOY GO,” I shouted, thinking about the dog rather than Partner. He ran out so he could be first in the queue. I followed a few minutes later. It was one of the rare occasions we had beaten next-doors. This meant we had first pick at everything (we fight over the fresh peas).

So for 15€ I bought 2½ kilos of peas, a kilo of broad beans, 2 or 3 kgs of potatoes, some carrots, some white turnips, celery, cucumbers, artichokes, green peppers, and radishes. I got a huge bunch of parsley too, but that’s free anyway. The veg man doesn’t speak English, but I think it’s worth learning a little Spanish to get all that for 15€.