and their ‘Whoosh’ are cunts.
The Mrs is usually a self sufficient type. Goes out and does things herself.
However, the other day she had a rare headache and decided to order some paracetamol and a couple of other things on the Tesco Whoosh thing.
Anyroad, the stuff arrives. But it’s some ethnic personage who talks Waka Waka.
He asks the old lady for her passport, otherwise she won’t get the tablets (and the oranges, milk and bread she also ordered). I was not standing for that, and I read their own rules out to this jobsworth pillock…
‘Tesco legally requires customers to be at least 16 years old to buy paracetamol. Under their “Think 25” policy, delivery drivers are required to ask for photo ID for any age-restricted or medicinal item if the recipient appears under 25.’
Well, as in fine physical condition as Mrs Norman is, she is 46 years of age. And – no offence to my beloved – she does not look either 16 or 25. She is a mature beautiful woman, and obviously no kid or Gen Z. The knobhead wasn’t having it ‘De App sez ya got to have eye dee!’ I told her she was wasting her time, so I told him to stick it. It was a matter of principle. ID on your own doorstep? For fucking Paracetamol?! Nobody takes the piss out of my wife. Needless to say, neither of us will be using this dreadful tinpot service again. And, I dare say our written and phoned complaints will disappear into the ether with the ones made by other customers. More disgruntled ex- customers in the link….
Nominated by Norman.




