Tales From Aldi: The Corridor Of Hell
Being 28, I grew up thinking of Aldi as a place where the scrubbers went to buy a 6p tin of beans whilst the rest of our mums went to Sainsbury’s to buy actual food. Shame on me and the rest of upper-working-class-Britain.
Now, however, only stubborn morons with antiquted consumer ideals avoid shopping there (or at Lidl). Aldi is a place of great prices for the same shit as you’d buy in Sainsbury’s or Tesco’s, just in a different package. I shop there, mostly, only using other supermarkets for specific beers or videogames.
I went to Aldi this morning at 10am to restock the fridge. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to an Aldi in England but they’re all the same: household objects down the middle; meat at the back; fruit and veg in the first narrow aisle you encounter — it is this aisle that is the subject of my rage.
As the manager unlocked the store, she shouted out to her subordinates in a mixture of English and Orc,
“Brace yourselves, it’s mega busy!”
I wouldn’t have gone as far as saying it was ‘mega busy’, but it was certainly congested. Actually, it was chaos, due to Aldi’s corridor of hell forcing people to queue outside of the store, then file in like herded beasts in a most-British of chaotic queues.
Because I got there at 10am, I was one of forty or so people trying to get into the store as it opened. This number of polite bodies makes for slow moving traffic. Add trollies and you’ve got a supermarket nightmare…and a nightmare it was: the eternally manacing vegetable aisle, with its claustrophobic walls of green nutrition, was packing the fine people around me in like we were in a train heading to the finest of the Nazis’ accommodations.
I’m not sure I’ll get over the trauma.
Aldi need to take a leaf out of Sainsbury’s book and make their entrance area bigger. It’ll make people feel more like a shopper and less like they’re cattle.