The old ones are the best ones, as they say...
Parking For One
I pride myself on parking in the parents-with-children spaces at Tesco, especially post-watershed. I’m not stridently single, just resent paying over the odds for my no-mates portions of everything.
Tuesday, doing some high-speed shoppage, nine-ish, I sinned. Instantly, a North London mother-type (all 4X4, big hair and designer tracksuit) parked across me, and shouted something indignant that I missed.
She had proof – babyseats. No actual children, I noted, but clearly a better manicurist, which warned me off a cat-fight. Anyway, I sat there feeling as if she’d yelled “can’t get a boyfriend? I can hear your bodyclock ticking” across the car park.
Whose moral upper ground is it anyway? For a start, yuppie-single types are much more likely to buy premium and so deserve better parking. Make the Tesco’s Value purchasers park the five-mile hike. In a product-differentiated world, there should be three parking sections: Premium (proximous location, squeak-free trolleys); Regular; and Value (directionally-challenged trolleys for your cheap-food choices).
Mothers might moan about being time-poor and cash-strapped, but at least they’ve got someone to help them carry the shopping: a child or their other half. Ergo, they should be the ones parking in Outer Mongolia. I’ve got no-one to help me unload. And that’s not just emotionally.
And now cost-per-kilo shelf labels provide galling evidence that my bijoux-portion purchases are actually subsidising all those families of five. So while we’re at it, redistribute Tesco reward points to the single people. Parents, after all, have the reward of child-rearing. QED.
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