Mr B and I have joined the Co-op. It is almost certainly our last chance to be share-holders in anything (apart from in certain banks which we never, ever wanted to be share-holders in but didn't have a choice)
and, anyway, I am taken by the idea of "a loyalty scheme with a conscience." Mr B will doubtless remain loyal in many ways to Tescos (the bigger the store, the more he likes it) but he is prepared to, well, co-operate....
Actually I have to confess that I am not joining the Co-op for any of the reasons mentioned above. I am joining because of Margaret.
Margaret is the smiley woman
on the check-out who has been unfailingly polite, helpful and cheerful on our every visit. She asks each time if we are members and each time I so want to say: "Yes! Yes! Yes!" (No, please don't go there....) As it is she has never chastised us
for our non-cooperation but she did give us a membership form. This I duly completed two weeks ago at least - only to forget to take it with us on every shopping trip since.
when Margaret asks if we have our form, I can't just say "No". Oh dear me, no, I have to explain at length that it is (i) somewhere on the dining room table under a pile of other leaflets, letters and diverse literature; or (ii) in my other handbag,
the one I use for best, bought for me by two of the Darling Daughters; or (iii) on the hall table, next to the telephone, where I wouldn't forget it (except that I did.) Margaret does not need to know all this but it makes me feel better, just explaining
the extenuating circumstances behind my failure to bring back the membership form.
Then today, hallelujah, I remembered. We only needed to nip in for a couple of rolls and some Maris Piper
potatoes but, most importantly, we had The Form. And guess what? Margaret wasn't on the till today. We had to give in our form to Ken, who was extremely pleasant, helpful and appreciative.
He just wasn't Margaret.