Breaking A HABIT

THE SUPERMARKET STAFF WILL MISS COLIN AS HE VOWS TO PARK HIS TROLLEY AND STAY AT HOME WITH FOMO

Unusually among men, I enjoy supermarket shopping. I could say it’s one of the highlights of my week, but I won’t because that might seem a little tragic. There’s a supermarket just down the road where I know the shelves intimately, where I can find all that I need – except perhaps chicken stock.

Occasionally I’ve wondered whether I go there too much, but now I don’t need to wonder any more because it turns out that I do. Just the other day the chap who stands out front, greeting shoppers and herding the shopping trolleys back inside, said to me, “Do you realise you’ve been here three out of the last four days?”