A quick pop into Woolies Sandton on Saturday to pick up a
sandwich and a bottle of water turned into 17 minutes of coronary-inducing
tensioned despair.
Sure, it’s early November.
Only one more pay cheque before Christmas and the hordes are out in
force, eyes wide and glistening, their tails wagging as they fall prey to the
Machiavellian marketing ploys of savvy retailers.
With 7 ½ weeks still to go the store is Yule infused floor to
ceiling from the door all the way to the food department at the rear, where the
Christmas machine rises to dizzy heights.
Subtly placed in front of and surrounding the food hall entrance, racks
and shelves sparkle with shapes and textures in hues of silver, red, green and
gilt. Yes, I carefully selected that
word, playing on the shiny gold colour which retailers deem essential seasonal
decor and mixing it with how we feel pre- and post Christmas.
This descriptive detail is just to set a mind picture for
you, reader. The poor goons who passed
the portal into the food hall were psychologically switched onto silly season,
and perhaps this blew the circuit breaker on their usual common sense and
courtesy motherboards.
Why else would a rather large mother and daughter duo halt
midway through the entrance and lean on their trolley to chat inanely about
what they were going to do after they’d left the store? Meanwhile, at least eight people and an
assortment of baskets and trolleys were stalled, desperately seeking a small
gap to pass through and begin the hell of busy Saturday grocery shopping.
It went downhill from there until I escaped clutching my
items, perspiring, heart racing and ready to switch religious faiths to any one
which doesn’t celebrate this insanity.
And this is weeks before I think about getting my Christmas act together
– usually I’m a good way into seasonal shopping, wrapping and planning before I
decide that the whole thing is for nutcases and completely over the top,
seeking solace in wine, chocolate and a good dose of Ebenezer Scrooge, sensible
man.
However, in my ongoing quest to provide answers alongside my
whinges, I’ve devised a solution to the appalling pedestrian trolley antics
witnessed on Saturday. In fact, the
solution is so simple it should become common usage in all supermarkets
throughout the year.
1.
A small section of the car park is set aside for
trolley driving tests. Shoppers have to
demonstrate that they can handle a trolley and earn a trolley license. This is a one-off test (unless you lose your
license due to bad driving at a later stage) and the credit card-like license
is swiped to unlock a trolley as you enter the supermarket. The cards can be used at any chain and any
branch.
2.
Trolley /pedestrian traffic moves left to right,
so as you enter with your trolley, you turn left and commence a slow, steady
perambulation up and down each aisle, picking your items of the shelf as you
pass. A one way system comes into play here.
3.
Shoppers must have a hand on their trolley at
all times. If you need to leave the
trolley and reach something, you neatly park it parallel to the left shelf,
fetch your item then return swiftly and move on.
4.
Should you decide, due to aisle congestion, that
you don’t need to enter an aisle with your trolley, you may park it in one of
the designated parking bays at the end of the aisle. Stay within the lines please.
5.
When you get to the till and realise as your
last item is rung up that you have forgotten something or want to change an
item, ignore the impulse to dash off back into the fray, telling the cashier
that you’ll be back in a second. You
won’t, and the rest of us will be devising hideous torture and disfigurement
for you. No, you hang in there,
sweetheart. Pay for what you’ve got,
park your trolley on the other side of the check out and run back into the
supermarket to pick up the errant items.
You forgot it, don’t make it my problem and force me to glare at the
stalled check out crew while you complete your shopping.
6.
Husbands and children – fabulous that you’ve got
someone willing to tackle the grocery shop with you. Now send him and the brats outside to window
shop, spend a fortune at the arcade or read story books at Exclusive. The supermarket aisle is no place for family
meetings and discussions on products. Be
brave, have only one shopping decision maker.
Truly, it’ll save hours and others’ blood pressure. As for that thing you do, parking the trolley
at a 45° angle across the aisle, whilst you and hubby block whatever space is
left and chat, leaving the kids to meander around in front of other shoppers –
do you do that on the road? No, didn’t
think so.
7.
In fact, following the rules of the road is
pretty good advice for cruising the supermarket aisles as well. Keep left, indicate when turning or stopping,
park your vehicle(and your body)out of the way of other traffic, and be
courteous at all times. Simple.
Happy Christmas shopping to one and all.
