Petrol stop

So a couple of nights ago I was locked in a car an forcibly driven to Tesco.

Well okay, perhaps that’s a bit of an exaggeration. But I did end up at the massive Tesco Extra in Chesterfield - the place I’ve been diligently avoiding for the past five months.

I’d been round to see my friends Lucy and Ady, and their lovely baby Oly, and we’d decided to order an Indian takeway to eat out on their decking with a beer as the weather was so nice. But the takeaway needed picking up, so Lucky and I headed out in the car to fetch it.

Lucy pulled up on the double yellows outside Chesterfield’s Indian Blues (probably one of the best Indian restaurants in the world) while I ran inside brandishing Ady’s credit card and muttering his pin number over and over to myself in my head.... “XXXX, XXXX, XXXX, XXXX”

The lady behind the counter then insisted in reading out our entire order to me while I frantically tried to keep focus on said pin number...

“So that’s one vegetarian tikka masala sag...”

“Oh god I’m gonna forget this pin.... XXXX”

“One chicken jalfrezi....”

“OH GOD I’m gonna forget this pin... XXXX.... XXXX....”

“One portion of mushroom rice...”

“ARRRRRRRR the pin.... XXXX XXXX XXXX.....”

Anyway, despite the distractions I managed to pay without locking Ady out of his credit card or being arrested for fraud, and then Lucy decided to swing home via Tesco to put some petrol in the car.


Lucy at the pump



“You know I can’t go in here?” I told her as we pulled into the car park.

“Yeah but you can’t stop me!” she replied, heading for one of the pumps.

So I took a few pictures while she laughed at me (sticking my arm out of the door rather than getting out of the car - so I didn’t actually set foot on Tesco property) and felt a bit naughty. But at the end of the day, I didn’t spend any money there, or get out of the car.... so no rules broken.