To me, and many others, super market flowers have always just been one step up from the tawdry offerings on the garage forecourt. The ultimate last minute ‘forgive me/remember me’, gift from the other half.
In the past year or so flowers have come my way with sympathies attached for Mum’s death and those bloody foot surgeries. They haven’t really been for anything else really. So it was a bit of a surprise that flowers came my way just the other day in unusual circumstances.
There I was nipping down to Tesco to do a weekly shop, credit card in pocket and trolley full of groceries. All was fine till I went to pay. That hellish moment, the card wouldn’t work.
I had been rejected!
Instantly my brain was flooded with several very unhelpful emotions – Humiliation; I look like a total loser who hasn’t got enough cash in the bank to pay – Fear; Oh my God I have no money, I’m broke and will now starve to death (and so will Idgy (on part time basis) and cat full time) – and the all out classic – Crushing Embarrassment; there is a queue and everyone is Looking At Me!
I am ushered off to the customer care desk where Annie tries to call the credit card company. They are refusing to answer their phones. Maybe they were all having a tea break. Maybe they were all enjoying a diet coke moment and watching some hotty with a six pack taking off his tee shirt and washing the office windows with it, or maybe all the lines were just busy. Who knows, it took almost 30 minutes to get through to them.
Then followed all the usual rigmarole of security before they would believe it was me. When I was finally allowed to speak to them and asked why I was having this problem I was told it was because there was someone trying to use my card in USA when I had already put a bank stop on this company charging me. Ho hum can only say the card company were doing a good job of keeping track of things but it didn’t stop my embarrassment etc.
As I hung up and paid for the shopping the manageress popped up out of nowhere armed with a huge bunch of beautiful flowers. “Please accept our apologies for all this hassle” she said. I was stunned and stammered apologies to all staff for my agitation, muttered swearing and for reading all the magazines and putting them back on the shelf.
We parted friends and I have to say here and now that Tesco really was a Super Market in my eyes that day.