A new sport to get me through the next month. Waitrose is near us, and it’s as expensive as hell. No place for a man trying to save up his pennies for a trip to Argentina. Or so you’d think…
Last night at about 7.30 we went to Waitrose, just before it shut at 8pm. By keeping an eye out for the woman with the pricing gun, some bargains were to be had. Two loaves of Nimble-brand bread for 10p (reduced from £1.50) and half a pack of yoghurts for 10p (more than 90% off). It was only half a pack because Anya wanted to wet her beak too.
My housemate Carole is an adept at this game, and apparently on a good day you can get veg too. She says there’s another regular to watch out for. A woman with black & grey hair, cut in a bob. She’ll swoop on anything, a fine eye for a bargain.
Balance = £50.67 (-0.4%)
Oh, and to prevent myself from spending all my time reading up on economic apocalypse paranoia material, I’m not reading or watching the news anymore. My economic barometer will now be a composite of:
- The number of houses for sale on my street (currently = 2)
- The price of petrol at the Tesco in Henleaze (currently = 103.9p/l)
- The price of 1kg of spaghetti in Lidl (currently = 69p)