Life for Lola

I've just popped down to the new Marks and Spencer 'simply food' shop. It's on one of those retail parks that erupt like boils along main roads. It was my first visit to the shop and I felt a mixture of delight and reservation at the same time.

There was a smashing amount of food on display and it was nice to see new packages. I skipped about with my basket and was putting this, that and the other in to it. However, when I reached the tomatoes I was a little bit taken aback by the price. Two quid for approximately eight cherry tomatoes - are they taking the piss? (all be it distilled through volcanic rock). I looked around me and spotted ladies clad in two piece suits, high hair and foundation slapped on their faces and felt a bit horrified at what we have become in the Sarf. I felt as though I was at the court of Louis XIV - such ugly extravagance.

I realised that if I wanted the tomatoes I could have them and not feel the pinch or the fear of the landlord at the door. Baby wouldn't go with out and all that, but I couldn't bring myself to buy them on principle. I felt the breath of excess blowing at my neck and i didn't like it.