One is feeling awfully playful this week, readers! Perhaps it’s the evanescent, bittersweet pang as the autumn sunshine burnishes the maples, as the cycle of life takes a fresh new turn. Or perhaps it’s seeing Drastic Dave in the Mail on Sunday, calling for a lovely new tax on multinational retailers who use their scale and ingenuity to corner the market and squeeze out incumbents. Not something Drazza would ever try, as I’m sure you’d agree, darlings!
Actually, it’s none of those things. It’s the latest corker from Right Charlie Mayfield. Sending his sanitised, Dettol-scented operatives around to one’s Knightsbridge pied-a-terre with a special code that allows them to unload all of their produce into one’s fridge while one is on yet another Frexit peacekeeping mission, judging the dance-off between Messrs May and Juncker (nul points for both, darlings).
Being something of a celebrity in retail circles, I do get to pick the drivers that come round. And it’s hardly my fault if my trips get cancelled at the last minute, leaving me unexpectedly at home when said operative punches in his one-time code on my buttons. At times like this one can’t help thinking a premium service is called for, particularly when one works out how to disable those bodycam thingummyjigs they all wear.
Anyway, it’s all a welcome distraction from the day job, which this week has largely consisted of vegetable promotions. Yes, it’s lovely to see Tesco’s Gorgeous George Wright get the commercial director job at M&S. Stack those deckchairs nicely, George, and do watch out for icebergs!