Class Vacuum

And I'm not talking about a Dyson. I'm talking about Tescos. Not to put too fine a point on it, it does my fucking head in.

I usually go in after hours but I finished at lunch yesterday so I 'nipped' in for a few things. I've put quotes around 'nipped' there cos you can't do anything like nip in there. It's a tortuous, drawn-out affair. Here are a few scientific facts about good old Tescos (or at least my local branch)

- It's a hangout for the socially alternative in the area. Have a quick look in the cafe; it's full of life forms yet to be ratified by science. They sit there in their ill-fitting suit jackets (why do they all have suit jackets?) supping tea for 5 hours to keep out of the cold. Get up, get out and get a job. Losers.

- 1 in 3 customers have a lazy eye. It's absolutely astonishing, but exactly 1 in every 3 patrons has some kind of eye condition, ranging from a tic to having one missing. I've no idea what goes on in the local area that could cause this, but the extent of eye-based trauma in beyond belief.

- The trolley 'boy' is a frustrated oil tanker captain. And a jobsworth twat. This prepubescent gimp in half-mast trousers gathers 86 trollies into a line then fails spectacularly to get them back to the pick-up point without veering wildly off course and nearly taking out the pensioners in the taxi queue. Try taking fewer at a time, you jackass. And a smile wouldn't kill you.

- The car cleaners are idiots. There are a bunch of twentysomething lads who clean your cars for a reasonable fee at your request, but they only have two sayings:

1) "You like car wash, sir?"
2) Scream at each other across the car park in aggressive, enthusiastic tones

Calm down fellas, please. You're giving me a headache.

- The till staff come to work on the Sunshine Bus. They're absolutely useless, the lot of them. The last time I looked Tescos didn't need 10 A levels and a Masters to operate their tills, but you'd think they were trying to split the atom the way they carry on sometimes. Just scan the item until you hear the beep, then pass it to me, OK? And blowing your nose enthusiastically between customers is a no-no too.

- It's home to the world's slowest walkers. If Norris McWhirter was still with us, I'm sure his stopwatch would be seeing all kinds of records broken, when the people leaving the store (usually pensioners) travel so slowly that they actually begin to go back in time. For someone like me with a purpose and place in society it is unbelievably frustrating. Stick a slow lane in for them or something.

I'll call time on the Tescos-based rant-fest there I think, but spare a thought for me the next time I have to tolerate this hovel of idiocy and slack personal hygiene.