Do you know something – I love Lidl. I’m a complete Lidl junkie. I even look up their web site a week in advance to see what the latest specials are going to be, which I suppose makes me a pikey.
Sometimes, the posh relatives might call in, and they’d look around the kitchen with a faint lip-curl of contempt. Oh, I see you bought your wine in – em, errrhh, eumhnnn, phhnnrggghhh, eh,
Lidl? I’d say. What’s your point?
Oh, nothing, they’d say, clutching their hand-woven kaftans tight around themselves. It’s just that –
These people don’t realise they’re dealing with a veteran. I have a Lidl telescopic yard-brush. I have every heavy-duty rock breaker, air compressor, tile cutter and finger-masher they ever sold on special. I have lined up outside their door at seven in the morning for some ridiculous nail-gun I’ll never use just because it’s there.
Look. Just have one look at what’s coming up in Lidl and tell me this isn’t a classy outfit. Here’s the solar-powered garden gnomes they’re offering next week.
Now. Is that tasteful or what? I’m going to buy maybe about two hundred of them and put them out in the front garden, everywhere. On the walls. On the ground. Hanging from the windows. Above the door. On the gate. The neighbours will love me for brightening up the area, and I’m sure they’ll call around in a deputation to thank me, just like they did last year when I put up all those brightly-painted wagon-wheels, the letter-box with the horse motif and the two concrete eagles.
God, they really loved those eagles.