What is it? A shop that sells newspapers, magazines, snacks and pornography.
What do you do? Get robbed.
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Old women seem to have a distorted view on newsagents. While Supermarket empires provide brilliant prices and everything you would ever need, except hoverboards - old people are particularly stuck on the idea of using newsagents. According to them, Newsagents are ‘lovely’ (they’re not), so as soon as Tesco clears a two-mile radius to build a supermarket, old people go out of their way to protect their newsagent from it’s inevitable demise.
This fantasy, obviously induced by their medication, is of a faithful cornershop, a haven of society cherished by the residents of Pixie Dust lane and Bullshit Avenue.
In this fantasy, we have Dick Van Dyke standing behind the counter, with rows and rows of shelves holding everything from sweets to ‘The Guardian’. A little boy rushes in.
“Could I interest you with ices of cherry and strawberry and all the pretty colours of the rainbow?! Or candy… delicious, mouthwatering, scrumpilicious candy. Whizz twigglers and Zap Sours and honeycomb melts!?”, he says heartily.
“Why Yessir!”, cries Timmy, an eight year old boy scout, before handing over an eighth of a pence to buy a chocolate house.
“That’s beezer, w-why thankyou Mister!”, the little boy cries.
“Ha ha!”, laughs the shopkeeper heartily, “Not a problem, now off you go! Enjoy!”
Unless you start popping the same pills as Agnes, this does not happen. In reality what happens is you walk into a shithole, get served by a man that has ‘fuck off’ written all over his face, and then you get all your money taken off of you. All of it - even your dignity isn’t safe. The worst thing is how they look you straight in the face afterwards, as if they didn’t just blatantly overcharge you.
“How can you sleep at night!?”, I scream, with my £2.00 Cornetto. Which is stale.
I remember the ridiculous arguments we used to read about in Geography class about how old people didn’t want giant, heartless supermarkets knocking their local corner shop out of business. Okay, if someone saying “What the fuck do you want” under his breath, and then conning you out of five quid isn’t heartless - then I’d hate to see what supermarkets are capable of.
To be honest, I don’t care if supermarkets are cold, giant warehouses, with faceless employees and mile-long aisles. I don’t go to shops for a Disney experience, I go there for fuel -you know, to survive and stuff. For every one item I can buy in a Newsagents, I can buy at least five at better quality, and at half the price in a supermarket.
Of course, Supermarkets aren’t always innocent. Sometimes they sell poor meat and sometimes they sell food injected with cancer, but what does that matter? I hope Tesco destroys all of them.
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