September 24, 2013 by

Mr Tesco 2013

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Categories: BLOG, DATING, Latest, Randoms

Firstly, I think I’ve already had a Mr Tesco. A vague memory of a customer with mental health issues a few years ago. So this is my 2013 experience tonight.

Secondly, I want to make sure that you lot know that I do not seek these misadventures. Tonight I was dressed like shit on my way back from French Class listening to N.E.R.D’s – the days before Pharrell just lifted recognisable tunes – Lap dance. I decide that I can’t do an M&S shop because, I tend to over shop and it’s still only day 2 of the detox. So Tescos is the safer option. I can’t go crazy in Tescos.

I need tomato sauce to go with my sausages. I’m in the aisle considering how much change I have and whether or not to go BBQ (crazy I know) instead of Heinz class tom k when I see someone out of the corner of my eye. He’s a plump sort of fellow and he’s in the uniform with an official looking scanning devise so I know he should be here.  He asked me how I’m doing? I answer that I’m fine thanks and get back to pro-ing and conning the tom K vs BBQ debate.

In the end the decision was made for me as the BBQ purchase got rid of more change in my purse. Win. I race the other customers to the till, get served in record time and I head off home.

I get a block and a half down the road, singing along to Crazy by Eternal (I am the missing 5th member)  and I hear someone hollering. I assume the international sign for “don’t fuck with me. I know karate” and turn around. Who do I see? Mr Tesco stumbling towards me like he’s just run a marathon.

karate craneSo what does he want? I reluctantly take my headphones off and thus begins our conversation:

Mr Tesco (panting): I can’t believe I ran around for ages looking for you.

Me: silent…… What are you doing?

Mr Tesco: I just wanted to say hi. I’m Mr Tesco. What’s your name?

Me: Mimi

Now this is the point where he should know I am lying. How many black women do you know called Mimi or Fifi. Nonsense toad.

Me: Shouldn’t you be at work?

Mr Tesco: Yeah, that’s my delivery arriving now.

He points at a Tesco truck that is decidedly closer to Tescos than he is. He is still holding the scanner and now also his phone.

Me: Look I’ve got to go.

Mr Tesco: Wait! (lunges forward, I step back) Do you live around here?

Me: Yeah and I go to that Tesco a lot so I’m sure I’ll see you around Mr Tesco.

Mr Tesco: Well the thing is I’m about to take my annual leave and I’ll be on leave for two weeks and  ….

tesco manMe: Look I’ve got to go!

Mr Tesco: Wait! (does that lunge thing again) Before you go let me get your number (starts fiddling with his phone.

Me: No!

Mr Tesco (looking confused) Why not?

Me: Because this is strange. I don’t know you!

Mr Tesco: But I want to talk to you. (how is he still panting?)

And that’s the point where I have an aha! moment. Why am I standing here giving this fool my time? I’m hungry, I’ve got sausages to cook and, I don’t think approaching women on the street is ever, ever an appropriate way of getting anything.

Tesco youre nextI wanted to ask him why me? Why do idiots like him harass me and think that I should be grateful for the attention? Is there something about my demeanour that says that I’m open to a clumsy approach in the middle of the Kings Road at 9.15 at night? Am I giving out desperate signals that I don’t know about? Is my energy fucked up? Do I need a cleansing?

But no, I just walk away and calculate that to get to the other Tescos will add 5  minutes to my walk home next week…..I should have gone to M&S. Turns out you can go crazy in Tescos.

© Chelsea Black

 

 

Chelsea Black is a writer. Romantically seeking her Fubo (future boyfriend) she often gets distracted by misadventures. She is currently working on her second book, first baby (sperm to be confirmed) and first real career. Chocolate and cocktails are food groups

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