Assistance Needed.

Waitrose finally hit Islington and positioned itself right in between two other big boys of the food chain game; Marks & Spencers and Sainsbury’s. (Approx. length from the start of M&S block to end of S.’s with W. in the middle – 100 metres.) A bit of supermarket O.T.T? That’s what I thought. It is quite a tight fit and a hint of competition is definitely present in the air. But lets not jump to conclusions just yet. In its slick campaigns, Waitrose promises difference. Quality. Exeptional Customer service. It is the luxury supermarket after all and as Wickipedia informs “has a Royal Warrant to supply groceries, wine and spirits to, her Majesty, the Queen.” Promising stuff.

From the outside I wanted to give the ex-Woolworths space the benefit of the doubt, starting with the location. Perhaps it is all part of the new order in urban planning, a breakthrough means in fascilitating the food hunt with customer in mind of course, inspired by the system from within, and titled something along the lines of “Supermarket within the Supermarket Scheme” in the Islington Council books. Three supermarkets lined up one after another – exactly like having all those different types of tropical juices in one aisle, which definitely makes it an easy find. Whether the selection process is just as easy is another question however... So now you know if you want food in Angel, you’ll find a wide selection between no.5 and no.31 Liverpool Road, catering for all kinds – from basics to the finest options. Plus, the newcomer promises to help solve the acute cattle crowding at rush hour, which was actually becoming quite serious. The madness would start just after 5:00 with the anxious post-work-to-tv-and-couch mob and go on for a good few hours. Not the best setting if you want to spend some quality time choosing the perfect carton of juice.

But no need to worry now, with Waitrose you can shop in peace and get some real quality stuff. Or so their advertising department says. Not particularly a diehard supporter of the supermarket system, I do use it of course, not too much realistically cost effective alternatives around. So I decided to swap my usual Sainsbury’s route a few weeks ago and pop into the new neighbour (rival?) for a peak and some quality food. And..

You will not believe it, but within 5 minutes I was out of there, seeking refuge in Sainsbury’s next door with a warmth in my heart and a newfound admiration for this store which has been faithful to me for quite some time now. It was not that satisfaction of being back in the comfort zone, on familiar terrains or anything like that. I find novelty extremely appealing. Here the problem lay not in what the store was, but what it wasn’t and it definitely wasn’t what the adverts promised!

It was dirty, chaotic and completely random, with maze like aisles too thin to fit two way basket carrying traffic (forget trolleys), no where near enough food selection to justify calling itself a supermarket (I mean real food, like carrots, potatoes – not the ready made pre-packed box dinners with fancy names which they have plenty of in fact) and undersupplied shelves. I mean I know that we are living through dark times with the recession and all, but when Waitrose staff cannot refill the shelves in time or clean the floors yet have the cheek to charge extortionate prices for ‘quality and customer service’, we know we have a problem. Like the winning hero, Sainsbury’s orange seemed to glow more orange in comparison.

Today, feeling good, I decided to give the newcomer another chance. I walked around, and round and round again to familiarise myself with the contents and felt the definite bias for quick cook, ready made box meals instantly. I did contemplate leaving my basket and running off to Sainsbury’s again, but considering the time – 7:00pm – prime time food shopper frenzy, I thought best get it over and done with quickly, and actually have the satisfaction of dealing with a real person at the cashier.

Yet, even then I was badly let down. After spending quite a long time trying to scan in my loose watermelon (one of those rare unpackaged food types, a.k.a without a bar code, a.k.a not in system, a.k.a should be weighed at counter but built in scales, now seem like defunct technology), the cashier dude eventually managed to type in a code. After his supervisor made a phone call. When payment time eventually came, I decided to use actual cash -- a rare action in transactions these days. The damage was £21.98. I handed over the exact in a variety of notes and coins and waited the polite few seconds for the cashier to approve my math skills. After a considerably longer time than normal of counting and recounting the case was still not closed. Instead, the cashier looked up at me blankly and said, “How much is this then?” Unbelievable. Perhaps those self-service checkout tills next door, periodically shrieking “assistance needed” are not so bad and three is a crowd after all.