Fortress LIDL

In my opinion, the top five most difficult things to understand are as follows:

5) The General Theory of Relativity

4) Particle Physics

3) Quantum Mechanics

2) String Theory

1) LIDL

Yes, you read that right. LIDL is easily the most difficult thing to understand in the known universe. Having a good grasp on the concept of a space-time fabric that can be warped by the effects of gravity or being able to get your head around the existence of particles that can exist in two opposing states at the same time is a piece of cake compared to understanding how LIDL works.

This realisation arose thanks to a recent trip that I made to the aforementioned German supermarket chain. I must admit that I was pretty much uninitiated in the workings of this particular establishment. On the face of it, I had assumed that it would be like any other trip to a supermarket, only with odd looking foreign variations of the tried and trusted brand name products that I know and love.

I was certainly right about the products, but horribly wrong about everything else. Here’s how it went down….

The Plan

Quite generously, I was given a small hamper of homemade products as a present from some friends of mine. On reflection, this is the sort of gift normally given to homeless people and other unfortunate souls, but as it housed a jar of pickled onions, a jar of chutney and an entire Dundee Cake which contained more whiskey than a 1920's Chicago Speak-Easy - I was most pleased and very grateful for the kind gift.

Suffering from a terminal bout of skint-itus, I decided to have a quiet night in one Friday, and decided, as you do, to utilise the contents of my newly acquired hamper have myself some cheese-board action (that's not a euphemism by the way). In short, I planned to prepare a delightfully delicious gastronomic concoction the likes of which the world had never seen!

Trouble was, I was missing some key ingredients:

• Cheese - I was down to a quarter block of slightly mouldy mature cheddar. Not acceptable.

• Grapes - No cheeseboard is complete without a handful of these sweet, juicy little buggers.

• Cream Crackers - The platform on which all great cheeses must make their presence known.
  

• Red Wine - My knowledge of Red Wine is enough that I can tell the difference between a Shiraz and a Stella. Beyond that I haven't got the foggiest what wine buffs are on about - but I do know that for some reason, Red Wine goes with Cheese Boards like George Osborne goes with the word pillock.
  

So, shopping list at the ready, I jumped in the car and nipped round to my local Waitrose which is pretty close to where I live. For those unfamiliar with this establishment, Waitrose has got a bit of a rep for being the supermarket for posh people (I swear I saw a man wearing a cravat in there once). Now I hold no allegiances to such elitist organisations, but damn it, If you're looking for a fine selection of cheeses, then Waitrose is your ticket. Plus, I must admit that it is nice to go shopping in a place where the danger of being stabbed to death is minimal (The chances of making it out of my local ASDA with your kidneys intact is usually about 50/50).

Unfortunately though, Waitrose was closed and the only other place that I could think of that might stock all of the necessaries on my list was a local LIDL 'supermarket'. However, I happen to suffer from a clinically undiagnosed psychological condition that I have informally christened Lidlstrauma which takes hold of me whenever I try to use these foreign supermarket chains - and shopping in them is a complete nightmare for me.

The Backstory (and associated psychological condition - a.k.a Lidlstrauma)

You see, although I said earlier that I had no experience of shopping in LIDL, this wasn't entirely true. While it was true that I had never previously bought anything from a LIDL, I had been in on several occasions. I had also frequented LIDL's bastard cousin ALDI too, but again had never bought anything. This lack of purchasing is because of the Lidlstrauma, which overwhelms me every time I go in.

I don't exactly know what Lidlstrauma is , but it seems to affect perception, balance and the pituitary glands (hence the sweating). The only sensation that I can liken it that feeling you get when you are in a dream, in a place that you think you know well, but where key details are skewed. For instance, you're in your house, but when you open the door to your bathroom, you are instantly led into a large open field or some other ill-fitting location. Know what I mean?

Anyhow, this is very much how I feel when the Lidlstrauma takes hold of me. I know that I'm meant to be in a supermarket , but then I look around at the indecipherable foreign labels, the weirdly abstract aisle layout and the sparse fruit and veg section, and everything just seems wrong and I get the onset of some sort of panic attack. Naturally, the first time this happened to me, I turned round and hastily headed back towards the entrance desperately in need of a gulp of fresh air.

Unfortunately, LIDL entrances rarely serve a dual purpose as exits and I was trapped. So, in order to evade the clutches of the LIDL house of horror, I had to traverse the strange wonderland of communist era food products and third-world electronics brands and make my way to the tills, empty handed, amidst a sea of stares and accusing looks from those customers (LIDL-ites as I will call them), staff members and freakish looking security guards, all of whom were clearly indoctrinated into the cult of LIDL.

As I ran for for it - I darted straight past the rows of Melangerie Brazilian blend coffee pods , past the thirty piece bicycle tool kits and the shelves of Parkside custard creams and right up to the check-out tills. Trouble was, in a style that I now know to be typical of fortress LIDL, despite there being several rows of tills, only one of them was being operated and the rest were blocked off. To compound my woes, due to a trolley bearing LIDL-ite in front of me, I was unable to pass.

By now, the sweat was pouring down my face. Full blown Lidlstrauma had fully set in me and I was ready to explode.

"LET ME OUT OF THIS GODFORSAKEN PLACE", I screamed........in my head.

Eventually a gap appeared between trolley and till that looked sizable enough to squeeze my frame through. Mistake number two - too fat.

Now I found myself pinned between the adjacent till and the LIDL-ites trolley, with both the till operator and the LIDL-ite staring at me with a look of contempt that might suggest that I'd just spat in the faces of their children. More worringly, the hulkish security guard was now eyeing me with all the steely determination of a tiger about to make a kill.

There was only one thing for it. With spots now appearing before my eyes, and the room spinning like a whirling dervish, I summoned all the gusto I could muster, and in my best, 'I'm a hapless idiot voice', I said....

"Ha! Would you believe it? I've only gone and left my wallet in my car haven't I. Honestly, I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on.....".

At precisely this moment the LIDL-ite and the till operator gave me a understanding nod, the vice like grip trapping me between the till and the trolley was loosened and like a mouse that had managed to wriggle out from under the paw of a house-cat, I was free!

Continuing my charade, I acknowledged the guard with an equally moronic 'I'm a bit of a dunce' expression, which seemed to placate him and cancel his 'red-alert status'.

The ruse had worked and I had made it to the exit door, which parted before me and released me back into the wild.

The sweet taste of freedom hit me, I rushed to my car and hastily drove off. As I looked back into the rear view mirror at the bright neon LIDL sign which grew fainter with every passing yard, I said to myself, "never again will I set foot in that place".

Of course, I soon forgot about this experience and had a similar breakdown in ALDI (which for all intents and purposes is the same sort of place) only weeks later. Fortunately though, in that instance, there was no one way system to speak of, so when the presence of strange foodstuffs such as Dairyfine Romeo Bars (shit versions of Bounties) and Holme Farm lamb chump chops finally overcame me, I was simply able to take a deep breath and casually walk back out of there with my dignity intact.

The 2nd Assault

Roll forward to the night of the aforementioned cheese board hunt. With Waitrose closed, and all other small off licences offering at best, inferior cheese board components, there was no choice left in the matter. If I was to enjoy a finely assembled cheese-board on that very eve, I was going to need to stare the demon in his eyes, master my fear and set foot upon the soil of LIDL once more.

As I pulled up to the car park of the LIDL from which I had so hastily retreated from all those months ago, I remembered the famous words of Franklin D Roosevelt; "The only thing to fear is fear itself". I steadied myself, slowly opened the car door and stood brazenly in the LIDL car park.

Cheeses. Wine. Grapes. Crackers. I knew the list, and I knew the objectives. I'd be like the Andy McNab of Cheese-Board shopping:

1. In
2. Acquire items
3. Till
4. Cash Payment
5. Out
6. Bosh!

So I strode confidently towards the doors, knowing from my prior experience of the LIDL one way system, that once I'd passed through them, there'd be no turning back.

The doors slid invitingly open, I ventured through and then they shut ominously, but expectedly behind me. I found myself standing in what can only be described as the orientation aisle. In layout, it was a bit like the holding area for the ball bearings on a pinball table - long, narrow and designed to contain you briefly prior to your emergence into the full wonderment of the main aisles. The promise of reaching the greater array of LIDL produce was now just moments away. The smell of the place and the look of the weird foreign food labels was starting to affect me again though, and I could feel the Lidlstrauma setting in. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my ear. But then a voice inside me screamed, 'pull yourself together man! You're THIS close to the perfect cheese-board!'

Buoyed by my forthright internal monologue, I started to proceed, but then a thought struck me. I'd already made my first mistake - and it was a potentially catastrophic one. I'd forgot to get a trolley. Shit! Worse still there were no baskets in the observable vicinity. Shit, shit!

Now I was stuck in LIDL, with a reasonably long list of items to procure, and no receptacle in which to place them. Even if I could have got back outside without having to suffer the humialition of naviagating my way through the tills empty handed again, I didn't have a bloody pound coin to get a trolley with anyway. And there was no freaking way I was going to ask the soul-less LIDL till operator for change. Lord knows what wrath that would have unleashed.

There was nothing else for it, I was going to have to ask the LIDL store assistant (who was busy barcode scanning several packets of Belbake all butter caramel wafers) if he could point me in the direction of the shopping baskets.

You see I am so used to shopping at ASDA where the shopping baskets are as numerous as the bewildered Polish immigrants who roam the aisles, that I had just casually strolled in to LIDL assuming that I would be able to pick up some sort of carrying vessel without any hassle. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Upon receving my query, the LIDL assistant looked at me as if I had the IQ of a cane toad. He spoke very deliberately, and somewhat more slowly that I felt was really necessary:

"We don't do baskets in LIDL. We never have. You'll have to get a trolley from outside" he replied.

Well. Didn't I feel like a senseless idiot! I mean, far be it from me to have assumed that I would be able to lay my hands on a shopping basket IN A FUCKING SUPERMARKET! Seriously, the idea that someone might want to come in and buy....i don't know....only a few items, well that's completely ridiculous, isn't it?

He then went on to tell me that some people (the aforementioned LIDL-ites) bring their own boxes...

I repeat. They bring their own boxes! What was this place, a Moroccan street market? Next thing I'll be seeing people coming in carrying enormous water vases on their heads to go and fill up with their weekly supply of Vitafit Apple Juice from a sodding well.

All I wanted was a bloody basket!!!

Anyway, the Lidlstrauma had now subsided slightly and was rapidly being replaced with obstinate rage. I now defiantly assured myself that I was going to carry everything that I needed straight to the till. Hell, I'd stick the bottle of wine under my chin to carry it if I had to.

Things started to improve somewhat after this. My first concern about their lack of grapes was to prove unneeded, as despite having a fruit and veg section that in its entirety consisted of three butternut squashes and a packet of radishes, there were two bags of red grapes (my favourite) in attendance too.

Next up, and almost adjacent to the fruit and veg section was the refridgerated area. Despite not being quite up the the gloriously high benchmark set by Waitrose, their cheese section was well stocked.

Now the key to a good good cheese board, I'm reliably informed, is to ensure the inclusion of your four main types of cheeses:

• Squidgy - Brie, Camembert etc.
• Hard/Crumbly - Cheddar, Leicestershire, Feta etc.
  
• Goats Cheese - Chevre, Perroche etc.
  
• Blue Cheese - Stilton, Gorgonzola, Roquefort etc.
  

There wasn't any Goats Cheese going, but the were plenty of the other types. I opted for a mature block of Mature Cheddar, a block of Blue Stilton and finally a big wedge of Brie. Things were shaping up nicely.

Now for the vino. Again, I barely know good wine from antifreeze, but I know that paying about six quid will get you something fairly glugable, so again, from what was a reasonably well stocked wine section, I went for a £6.99 bottle of 2007 Chianti. Nearly there. All I needed were the cream crackers....

After searching a couple of aisles, I finally made my way towards the biscuit section. I say biscuit section, but what I really mean is biscuit/oriental food/fray bentos section. I spent several minutes scouring the aisle and found digestives, noodles and something that resembled an otherworldy interpretation of a giant wagon wheel, but alas, no crackers.

Remember that at this point, I was fully laden with the wine, three varieties of cheese and a big bag of grapes. Not a untenable load, but enough to require the use of my left little finger for grip. The race was on to acquire all my items and get to the till before a debilitating cramp could set in.

Next, I decided to try the savoury snack section, which in all honesty should probably have been my first port of call. Again I carefully perused the rows that were this time stocked with such wonders as Alesto: Nuts Royal and Knights Selection crisps, but to no avail. They were not there either

Now my patience was really starting to wear thin. My left hand was now doubled over in a claw-like fashion to accomodate a grip on my three cheeses and wine bottle, and I was starting to wander feverishly through the aisles, just trying to make some sense of the arcane LIDL stocking system, in order that I might find the blasted crackers. I was so near, yet so far...

I couldn't go on anymore, the Lidlstrauma was setting in again, I was forced to seek out the assistant who had previously informed me, rather condescendingly about the basket scenario.

Upon laying eyes on me again, and noticing that I was laden with shopping, he chortled;

"So you didn't go and get a trolley then?"

In my mind, the conversation thereafter should have taken place as follows:

"NO! I didn't go and get a trolley, you patronising twat! I decided that it would be much more fun to prance around LIDL, carting around all my produce in my barely sufficient grasp looking like the hunchback of sodding Notre Dame! Oh yeah, and while I've got your attention, can you please, for the love of everything good and holy, tell me how the hell I decipher the Enigma like code that is the LIDL shelf stocking system, and thus find the motherfucking cream crackers!", Said I

"They were right by the door as you came in. Right next to the 1kg value packs of Formil Washing Powder" Said he.

"Well that makes perfect fucking sense! I mean who could possibly eat a packet of cream crackers without having an industrial sized bag of cleaning product to go with it" Said I - at which point I also bludgeoned him to death with a bottle of Shepherd Neame Dragonfire Ale.

Of course the conversation didn't really go anything like that, and was more like this;

"Didn't go and get a trolley then?" Said he.

"No. I've managed ok thanks! I'm having a little trouble finding the cream crackers though" Said I.

[I awkwardly held up the three cheeses, wine and grapes to validate my cracker request]

"I've looked in the biscuit aisle and the savoury snack section, but I'm having no joy!" Said I

"They were right by the door as you came in. Right next to the 1kg value packs of Formil Washing Powder" Said he.

"Oh of course. Silly me! I must have walked straight past them. Thanks very much" Said I.

Having thoroughly emasculated myself in the eyes of this patronising LIDL twerp, I headed back over to the entrance, and as described, the cream crackers were sitting there, adjacent to the 1kg value packs of Formil Washing Powder.

Now with my list complete, and a 75p bag of Maynards wine gums added to my bounty (I can't resist them - and at 75p, what a bargain!), I stumbled, hands now at maximum capacity, to the till. And then the fun really began.

Checkout

Things started well. No queue! However, the LIDL till guy was in the process of being berated by another fellow who I assumed that although clearly being around ten years his junior, was also his supervisor. The nature of the chastisement was unclear, but was being met with a shrugged acceptance, as in "yeah, yeah, whatever like". The 'supervisor', seemingly disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm expressed by his underling, retreated scornfully and disappeared into a room marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. I could only assume that this room might have been akin to some sort of military control centre, where the LIDL staff congregate over a table top map of the world to discuss their plans for world domination. Well, either that or it's where they kept the excess stocks of Nairns Oatcakes.

Of course, like any good employee in the United Kingdom, the till guy waited until his 'supervisor' had vanished before turning to his colleague (a fairly gormless looking security guard) to make disparaging comments about his oppressor. These in short consisted of:

• "What a dickhead"
• "I've never liked that twat"
• "I'd love to punch him in his fat face"

Whilst slightly annoyed by the till monkey's complete lack of attention in regards to me, the 'valued' customer, I was quite pleased to note someone else displaying the kind of spineless passive-aggression that I had been championing since I entered the shop. He was more than welcome to my crown.

With a near complete lack of regard for my very existence, he began to scan my items whilst still engaged in conversation with the guard. Upon recklessly chucking all of my items through to the collection point, he finally acknowledged me with a passing glance;

"£10.71" was the entire discourse.

With a queue of several people having now formed behind me, I paid the man, knowing that soon enough, I would be free of this awful place and heading back home to indulge in a little evening television, accompanied by a well deserved snack. I just needed one more thing;

"Can I have a bag please?" I asked.

"2p" he replied.

Please note that his entire conversation with me at this point consisted only of numbers. £10.71 & 2p. Honestly, I have had more rounded conversations with my pocket calculator. At least it can say BOOBLESS and ESSO OIL.

Now the rage inside me was swelling. I felt like Bruce Banner following the delivery of an innaccurate takeaway order,

"Fine. I'll just have one bag then" I barked

"They're round the front of the till" he responded. Proving finally that he could address me in something else other than a binary language.

He begrudgingly nodded towards the queue of people, where indeed, there were a pile of assorted plastic and material bags.

"Do you want a bag for life? he asked. "10p" he added, reverting back to his first language.

Not really I thought. To be honest, I'd like to completely erase all memory of this last 20 minutes from my life, so carrying a LIDL bag to my grave would not be my preferred choice.

"I'll just get a normal one"

"2p" he said again, once more proving his vocabulary was seemingly limited to integers.

As I apologetically moved a queing female LIDL-ite to get at the bag I needed, I noticed the till operator throw a 'he doesn't even understand the bag system' look at her, which she met with a triumphant nod towards her own receptable of choice, which was of course, a home-bought box. Smug fucker.

Handing over my 2p, I struggled to part the opening of the bag, which appeared to have been welded shut with some sort of industrial adhesive. Several excruciatingly long seconds later, I managed to rip a bloody great hole in the top of the bag - cue rolling eyeballs from the smug fucker LIDL-ite and the binary minded till operator.

'Thanking' the quite unhelpful till guy for his 'help', I trimphantly departed the shop, successful in my mission, but somewhat mentally scarred as a result.

So let me summarise, in the hope that any other uninitiated LIDL shoppers can avoid the pain and turmoil that I experienced:

1. Once that entrance door slides shut behind you. You're trapped. Deal with it.
2. BYOB applies. That's 'bring your own box'. Apparently 3rd world chic is all the rage.
3. The cream crackers are usually positioned next to industrial sized boxes of cleaning products
4. LIDL till operators are quite possibly cybernetic organisms who can only converse in numerals.
5. Bags are not free and are awkwardly positioned between the legs of other queuing shoppers and have been welded shut with molten iron.
   

Still, at least I can now relate to 'Naam veterans, when they say; "You weren't there man! You don't know what it was like"

I do. I was there. LIDL 2012:

Finally, and most importantly, my cheese-board was proper awesome.

n.b. I still suffer from Lidlstrauma to this day and have not managed to purchase any further items from a LIDL store. Only last week I suffered another onset of the condition when I went and tried to purchase some Scandinavian sandwich fillings. Please Tweet me if you're afflicted too (@steveo556). I may set up a foundation if there are enough of us. The world needs to know about our affliction.

Geek Fighter II - The PC World Warrior

I had always known that one day, my trusty Dell C521 Dimension desktop PC would cease to function adequately, would start to resist my efforts to interact with the world wide web and ultimately, would be destined for the Internet cafe in the sky.



That day came last week. After five years of loyal and dedicated service, the old boy just packed in. I hoped that I might be able to resuscitate it, but it turned out that the problem was serious enough to warrant a full PC replacement. In all fairness, five years is a decent run for a PC, and anyway, I was starting to find a few limitations in terms of what the little silicon based chappie could deliver in this more technologically demanding decade.



So, knowing that a replacement was required, I turned my attention to what was on the market. I had a budget of £400 and I had made the decision that although you can get a lot more 'bang for your buck' with a desktop, I wanted a laptop. In all honesty, this was mainly so I could realise my dream of sitting on the sofa on Saturday afternoons watching Sky Sports Soccer Saturday whilst mindlessly surfing the net and/or writing twaddle. Basically, I wanted to be just like this guy, but without the smug grin, with more chocolate stains on my t-shirt and sporting significantly longer toenails:



Now, despite what people might assume, I'm not really much of a PC geek - I am aware of what does what - but open the lid and I wouldn't know a front side bus from a National Express Coach. Equally though, I'm not a complete moron in this regard either and am more than able to find reasonable value for money when computer shopping.

These were my minimum specifications (for those mildly interested):

Processor: 2nd Gen Intel i3
RAM: 4GB min
Hard-drive: 500GB
USB: 3 ports min. USB 3.0 would be nice
HDMI Out: Yes
Graphics Card & Sound Card: Bog standard - I'm not really a PC gamer and I'm not a big audiophile either.

Having scouted around online, a couple of laptops caught my eye, and happily were in my price range. One such device was a Lenovo IdeaPad z570, which ticked all of the aforementioned boxes and was £30 shy of my budget limit - coming in at £369.99. It also came in a fetching blue colour, which I must admit, looked rather nice.


Checking out some user reviews of the laptop, I was pleased to say that it rated well. For someone like myself who wanted to use it for surfing, a bit of work (on occasion) and a lot of downloading of movies and music, it appeared to be the perfect match.

Trouble was I needed to purchase it sharpish, and it was only available at the computing den of vice that is - PC World.



I have never before bought so much as a USB stick from PC World. It is the very definition of a soul-less mega store. Unlike many little independent computer shops, who pride themselves on very personalised customer services and ensuring that the customer gets exactly what they're looking for, PC World's core ethos seems to be about maximising profit by convincing/conning people into buying pointless crap that they don't really need via the medium of 'informative' sales patter.



This pointless crap includes ridiculously expensive anti-virus software, extensive 'office' software and worst of all, outrageously overpriced 'peace-of-mind' guarantees and insurance packages that you'll subscribe to and most probably never use.

Worse still, a large number of staff at PC World tend to have little more knowledge about the products that they are selling than that which was described to them on their first day briefing. They are also duty bound by their blood signed employment contracts to do everything in their power to get to to buy the aforementioned 'pointless crap' and squeeze you for every last penny that you can afford.


Still, I shamefully headed over to my local Curry's/PC World Superstore to pick up my chosen device.

Upon entering the shop I made my way over to the laptop display area. Along the way I passed a couple who appeared to be utterly mesmerised by the shiny white hub that was the Apple Mac area. Glancing quickly across, I too felt strangely drawn to the pearly white devices with their edgy, minimalistic looks - but then I was snapped back to reality when I noticed that they were all so stupidlyexpensive that I've have had to flog my own kidney to afford one.








After browsing through more completely overpriced laptops in the SONY area, I made my way to the mid-range laptop section, where my quarry was to be found. The area was populated by a variety of Lenovos, ASUS' and ACERs - All of which are top quality makes which tend to be a bit cheaper as they don't usually attract the status minded shoppers (who are usually busy salivating over more well known brands).

Having found the Ideapad, I toddled off to find a member of staff, whom I hoped (despite some grave reservations) might be able to assist me with my purchase. My mission was simple. Get the staff member to answer a few straightforward questions and then sell me the laptop without any additional crap.

I called this challenge; 'Geek Fighter II - The PC World Warrior', as much like the famous 2D beat em up game Street Fighter II, I was sure to do battle with numerous foes, each with their own unique style and technique.

The first of my PC World Fighter Opponents (Identifiable by name-badge) was Anne. Her face obscuring fringe, multiple facial piercings and dyed black hair suggested an embryonic adult, currently enduring the uncomfortable transition from being a fully fledged mardy-arsed teenager to becoming a downtrodden retail salesperson.

I approached her cautiously as she appeared to be in a world of her own - probably contemplating the relative strengths of differing shades of black and composing lyrics about Rigor-mortis.

Round 1 - Anne.


Height: 5ft 2"

Weight: 115lbs

Style: Disillusioned post-teen Emo type - currently being sapped of her life-force by the corporate machine.

Special Move: Complete lack of interest in anything I that am saying

1) I told Anne that I had found the laptop I wanted and asked her if the RAM was upgradable. POW!!

2) She somehow managed to completely ignore my question and started telling me about another machine which would allow me to access the Internet via the push of a button (???) BAMM!!!

4) I told her that this really didn't interest me and I asked her again if she could reliably inform me as to the maximum RAM capacity of the Lenovo Ideapad Z570. HADOUKEN!!!!

YOU WIN!

Unable to continue to ignore me or actually provide an answer to my question, Anne retreated to fetch my next opponent.

Enter Jasbeer - a rather rotund fellow who looked like he would have been more suited to life in a 2nd hand car dealership than in a premium corporate megastore. With his few remaining strands of upper head hair blowing steadily under the air conditioned 'gulf-stream' of PC World, Jasbeer sauntered over to me with the look of a Lion about to sink his teeth into an Antelope carcass.

Round 2: Jasbeer

Height: 6ft

Weight: 210lbs

Style: Arrogant balding Sales Type

Special Move: Pretending to know loads of made up shit

1) Jasbeer approached me in overconfident, supremely patronising manner. "How can I help you 'young man'?" SMASH!!

2) I responded by repeating the RAM question that had vanquished Anne. HADOUKEN!!!

3) Jasbeer blocked this enquiry, with a swift counter of; "You probably don't need to worry about that, but do you know what you should worry about? Viruses! Like, there's this new virus that will actually steal your bank account! Completely steal it man! You're going to have to consider getting some good anti-virus protection - you can't be too careful these days!". SONIC BOOOOM!!!

4) Unsure as to how exactly how a bank account can be stolen, I unleashed my own counter. "It's alright 'mate' I use AVAST antivirus - which is highly rated - and free". SHORYUKEN!!!!!!

5) Sensing victory was imminent, I hit him with a double whammy. "Anyway, so again, can you tell me what the maximum RAM is, and are the USB ports USB 3.0? HADOUKEN!!! SPINNING BIRD KICK!!!!

YOU WIN!!

With his mildly dishonest sales patter defeated, Jasbeer informed me that he'd go and get another colleague who would be able to answer all of my questions, as he wasn't sure.

After pacing back and forth for a few minutes, I spotted my next opponent making his way over. And what a sight he was!

Dressed in the customary PC World purple shirt, but with a scrotum crushingly tight pair of drainpipe jeans, the one whose badge revealed him to be 'Harvi' looked every bit the unrelenting opponent that I would have expected at this point. I was right in the middle of a full-on salesman chain-brawl and they were throwing the 'big-guns' at me now.

The most spectacular thing about Harvi was his long flowing locks of jet black hair. His was truly a mane to rival that of Lord Aslan or Simba's Dad. Like an Asian Jon Bon Jovi he swaggered over to me.

Round 3 - Harvi

Height: 5ft 9"

Weight: 135lbs

Style: Long lost member of Guns n Roses

Special Move: Supreme self-confidence stemming from the power of his awesome barnet

1) With a wall of pryotechnics exploding behind him, Harvi walked through a wall of dry ice, looked me dead in the eye and said, Hi I'm Harvi! HADOUKKEN!!!!!



2) Harvi then followed up by answering my question about the USB ports (they weren't USB 3.0), and then complementing me on my nice suit and insisting that I'd probably want the full MS Office 2010 package with it, as it only had the starter package - which had only had vastly reduced versions of Word and Excel - which wouldn't nearly be adequate for a professional looking gent like myself . TIGER UPPERCUT!!!!

3) I was taken aback by this double whammy of PC World persistence and bare faced arse kissing. A quick counter was needed. "I don't really want Office (i knew I'd be able to download a hooky copy anyway), and I'm still not sure about the maximum RAM situation". To hammer home my advantage, I followed up with - "I take it the existing 4GB is DDR3 RAM?" (knowing full well that it probably was) METSUUUU HADOKKKKEENNNNNNNN!!!!

YOU WIN!!

With this final assault of simple questions, Harvi, his amazing hair and unfeasibly tight trousers were finished. He told me he wasn't sure and he'd have to find out on the store computer. He asked me to go and wait by the till and told me he'd go and get an Ideapad out of the store-room and double check my questions on route - then if I was happy, he'd finish the transaction at the till.

I'd done it! I'd beaten the PC World staff. They had truly given up on their efforts to sell me extra rubbish. Harvi pointed me towards the till and he headed off to fetch an Ideapad from the storeroom.

But then as I watched Harvi , he veered off from his storeroom-bound course towards a another man who was standing with his back to me. Harvi's deferent posture as he approached the mysterious figure suggested that this was someone of importance. And they were. For he was....

Store Manager 'Alan'

Store manager Alan was everything that I had feared. He appeared to be an actual geek. His thick glasses, uncoordinated posture and greying wizened look suggested that he might actually know what he was talking about and would seek to confuse me with a confident display of knowledge. I was ready though. Well at least until he spoke...at which point it became apparent that Alan was a born and bred crafty cockney.

A goddamn geeky cockney sparrow! And everyone knows that cockneys have a genetically inherent ability to be able to sell absolutely anything to absolutely anyone. Its a superpower akin to x-ray vision. If I didn't play this one right, I'd end up walking out of PC World with £100 platinum coated HDMI cable and a lifetime subscription for keyboard insurance.

Final Round - Store Manager Alan


Height: 5ft 10"

Weight: 180lbs

Style: Cockney herbert with a nerdy exterior

Special Move: Unflinchingly relentless and persuasive sales banter.

Straight out of the blocks he sought to unnerve me with his cockney charm:

1) "Alright san. Howr ya doin me old' mucka? What can I do you for?" POW!!



2) I repeated all of my questions in quick succession, hoping he'd be overwhelmed. PSYCHOCRUSHERRRRRR!!!!!!!

3) He responded instantly in a typically brisk and assured cockney style;

"Well, you can ramp up to the full 8gb whack, but would ya want to? You see me ol' chestnut, unless you're into your high end stuff, you won't need it. What you're looking for is reliability fella. Reliability! Now, it don't matta which machine you go for - they're all pretty reliable as it happens, but sometimes they do 'ave an habit of goin' a bit Pete Tong on you - and if that happens - you're gonna wish you 'ad a bit of cover, aint ya? So here's what ol' Alan says! Buy this laptop, coz it's a steal for the price - but take out the three year extended warranty peace of mind plan. It'll only cost you 35p a day, for the duration of the contract, and we'll only charge you 14.2% interest APR if you take it out as a monthly plan. Now ya can't say fairer than that, can ya?" TIGER DESTRUCTIONNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!

4) Battered and bloodied by this relenting sales pitch, I mustered every last bit of consumer resistance left in me and replied. It's alright mate I've got extended warranty cover and hardware support cover with my bank (this was at least partially true) and one of my close friends is an IT professional who's fixed my computer before for free. WRATH OF THE RAGING DEMON!!!!! SHIN SHORYUKEN!!!!!

YOU WIN!!!

With my questions answered and my resolute refusal to be tricked into buying into an expensive, subscription based insurance swindle, Store Manager Alan was no more. Harvi returned from the storeroom with the Ideapad and rang it through the till.

I picked up the Ideapad box and strode victoriously towards the exit.

As the automatic doors parted upon my departure, I turned back to see Alan, Harvi, Jasbeer and Anne stalking the aisles again - and I knew that they were just waiting to do battle with the next......

PC World warrior.

Your road to a healthier you! The consume everything in sight plan

With Christmas out of the way you are probably a little bit on the skint side, and somewhat depressed now the festivities are over, but on the bright side you have become the proud owner of more pairs of socks and vermin repelling aftershaves/perfumes than you can poke a stick at.




Now that the wheels of life are beginning to turn again, you have probably headed back to the land of gainful employment and are readjusting to a more mundane routine. You might also be feeling a bit on the podgy side and have decided to embark on some sort of a weight loss plan, be it through dieting, a exercise regime, or via an ill-advised makeshift stomach stapling procedure involving stolen office stationery.....










Whatever your method, if you are about to embark on a healthy living plan in the early days of this new year, I say to you...STOP!

Look around you. Your home will no doubt still be littered with the delicious festive sweets and treats that have accumulated in your home during the Christmas period.

We've all been there. It's the new year, and you want to start getting healthy, but there's still too much food around! So you tell yourself "I'll eat this lot then I'll get on with living the dream of a healthy lifestyle".

Trouble is, the food supply is seemingly inexhaustible, and you find yourself sitting on your sofa on a Friday night in Mid January, eating a leftover box of mince pies whilst watching old Christmas movies instead of being out running ultra marathons in the Arctic Tundra.

There is but one solution......



You must literally eat every last morsel of leftover Christmas food as soon as humanly possible or you will not truly be able to move forward with your personal improvement overhaul. You could just throw everything away, but let's be honest - we're in a time of economic crisis and that sort of waste is inexcusable! You could give it away, but as everything is probably already open and half eaten, or close to its sell by date, it's unlikely to be accepted -  so satisfy your conscience with a charitable donation and simply get on with the business of necking the lot.

If this is the path you choose to take, I would encourage you to follow my patented Consume Everything In Sight Plan - CEISP, otherwise known as stage 1 of the 'Fat Bastard Exorcism Program'.

The CEISP(c)

The first step of your CEISP(c) is to catalogue all of your 'surviving Christmas food stuffs'  (SCFs) so that you can calculate the total 'consumption difficulty level'  (CDL) of your stockpile of leftover Christmassy goodness. Generally, these will be those things that have a long shelf life, rather than the many meat based products that will have long since become inedible.

The following is a guide to cataloguing your SCFs:

1. Christmas Cake



Often used for the purpose of bludgeoning men to death, the sheer weight of a Christmas Cake should be enough to tell you that it is packing some serious badness. It's main constituents are icing, err...cake, and usually about half a bottle of rum, whiskey or some other suitable alcoholic spirit. As eating an entire Christmas cake in one go will probably result in death, it must be integrated into your plan and consumed on a gradual basis.

Consumption Difficulty Level (CDL): Per slice - 5

2. Beer



Beer. The unadulterated king of liquid calories. Lets face it, you're always going to have some beer stocked in the fridge, but having two spare leftover Christmas cases is asking for trouble for anyone wishing to embark on a weight loss program. Again, the consumption of this should be integrated into your plan to avoid death by bloating.

Consumption Difficulty Level: Per can - 3/bottle - 2.5/ale - 3.5

3. Assorted Savoury Snacks



Typically, these will include some, or all of the following:

• Pringles
• Crisp multi-packs (i.e. quavers, walkers etc..)
• Salted Peanuts
• Bombay Mix
• Crackers

Savoury snacks are of particular danger to anyone embarking on a healthy living plan, as they are generally eaten in small but frequent portions. 'A handful of nuts here, a bag of Wotsits there', you will soon find yourself back in full kitchen grazing mode! As such they need to be dealt with quickly, so integration into a rapid consumption plan is critical to the success of your personalised CEISP.

Consumption Difficulty Level: Per packet/large handful - 2

4. Cheese



Aah, Fromage, Formaggio, Cheeeeeeese! Hats off to the person who first left a jug of milk out for too long and inadvertently created this wonderfully pongy snack. As the eponymous hero of the almighty Cheese-Board, it is a truly wonderful addition to the list of your SCFs. Trouble is, it's another one that tends to hang around for a while after Christmas due to its long shelf life and results in numerous mini cheeseboards being created every time you enter the kitchen area. It is not advisable to eat entire blocks of cheese in one sitting because:

a) If you're lactose intolerant, prepare for a tsunami of alien matter to be ejected from every orifice of your body

b) You will suffer from nightmares that will be more terrifying than a night spent in the company of Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

Consumption Difficulty Level: Per generous slice - 4

5. Jars of things



'Jars of things' are another danger to the good intentions of a person recovering from the excesses of Christmas. 'Jars of things' fall roughly into two categories:

• Pickled things - Consumption Difficulty Level: per good helping - 3.5
• Jams & Chutneys - Consumption Difficulty Level: per good helping - 3

Pickled things will normally include onions, cabbage and eggs. Chutneys and jams are essentially the same thing, with the former being of the savoury nature whilst the later of the sweet variety.

The presence of pickled things also has a habit of inspiring you to create entire micro meals from your SCFs. It is for instance, nearly impossible to eat a single pickled onion without subsequently finding yourself unwittingly creating a plate full of crackers, cheeses and grapes and of course about half a dozen further pickled onions to boot. In a further unavoidable twist of fate, the moment that you have finished your pickle inspired snack, you will be required to indulge in a pudding, or sweet, thus encouraging you to continue to raid your stocks of SCFs.

6. Chocolatey treats



Chocolatey treats are generally the most abundant SCFs - largely because you will have received a large supply in the form of gifts from other people (the bastards!) to compliment the stockpile that you have already amassed yourself. Like being in possession of a plentiful supply of class-A narcotics, you will never truly be able to turn over a new leaf until you have scoffed the lot. The enemy is varied and numerous:

1. Quality Street
2. Roses
3. Celebrations
4. Heroes
5. After Eights
6. Ferrero Roche
7. Guylian Seashells
8. Lindor

The most dangerous thing about this variety of SCF is the ease of consumption, which can lead to prolonged stomach aches, an inability to move and finally an enormously unsatisfying crap.
Consumption Difficulty Level: per individual treat - 0.25

7. Sweeties



Usually less numerous in quantity than chocolaty treats but equally as varied, sweeties are usually of a fruity or sour nature. Sweeties are normally bought for the kids, but inevitably become the object of desire for scavenging adults during the Christmas period. Sweeties are also often bought in giant plastic tubs, ensuring that there is normally a reasonably large supply that makes it to the new year and beyond. Fairly easy to consume and not naturally fitting into a larger snack, sweeties are probably the most harmless SCFs, but nevertheless must be consumed along with the rest.

Consumption Difficulty Level: per handful - 1

8. Mince Pies



You might not like them all that much, many don't - but you will almost certainly have a couple of packets of mince pies knocking about. As it is illegal in most countries to eat a mince pie between the dates of Jan 6th - Dec 1st, you need to get these necked, sharpish like!

Consumption Difficulty Level: per pie - 3

With the SCFs catalogued, you will now need to make a list and jot down the consumption difficulty levels (CDL) as mentioned above. Here's an example:



This particular list has a whopping Total Consumption Difficulty Level of 388! Actual medical experts have compiled the following 'danger chart' based on the Consumption Difficulty Level scale, which suggests that consuming over 80 CDLs in one sitting will result in a negative impact on your general wellness, and that if you were attempt to finish off the entire list of 388 CDLs shown above, you'd be shuffling off this mortal coil before you could digest your last pickled onion:



So basically, if you're going to conduct your CEISP safely, you're going to need a carefully devised daily gluttony plan. Here comes the hard sell:

Using my patented CEISP optimum snacking formula, and for a one off payment of £39.99, I'll help you through this tough time by providing you with the following:

• Your own personalised 2 week CEISP post christmas meal plan.

• 3 daily text messages of encouragement (e.g. "Go on, have another bag of quavers, you know you want to") during your programme.

• A signed poster of Rick Waller

• 24 hour access to the Live chat forums where you can discuss whether or not to eat that last ferrero roche with other registered PHLPCEISPers.

• A full money back guarantee if you don't pile on the weight that you eventually want to lose.

CLICK HERE TO REGISTER*
Here are some testimonies from successful CEISPers:
"With the CEISP, I was able to eat all 17 jars of my homemade picked duck's eggs within 2 weeks, and gained the 13lbs I will be trying to lose next month!" Boris Netharegiane (48), Swansea, Wales
"Using the CEISP, I gained nearly 21lbs in two weeks by practically living on Blue Stilton and After Eight mints. Now I can start my exercise regime at last! Janice Meatsweate (37), Nottingham, England
"The CEISP helped me to demolish my stocks of surviving christmas foodstuffs and finally break a cycle of snacking that started with a box of Mint Matchmakers in 1983, and has now pushed me towards considering signing up to my local gym. Vestan Pance (56), Buckinghamshire, England
"Don't delay. Register today to begin your journey towards considering embarking upon a journey towards a healthy lifestyle!"
* Please note that providing any bank details may initiate the process of a large cash sum being transferred from your bank account to a Nigerian Banking institution of questionable legal and moral ethics. You also may never actually receive any of the described items - except for the Rick Waller poster. You'll definitely get that.