The Vegetable Delivery people have gone broke. I read the letter with sadness. Life in Brown’s Britain is hell. They are a victim of the economic downturn. Woolworth’s, MFI, The Vegetable Delivery Service. It is like all the icons of British retailing are collapsing around our ears.
Granted, their lettuces were occasionally less crunchy than credit itself, and there was the odd inappropriate substitution: parsnips for jerusalem artichokes; courgettes for radishes; a Vegetable Delivery Man (with a beard) for the fit Vegetable Delivery Lady. But they were a nice little business that deserved to do better.
They encouraged me to eat vegetables, by the simple fact that they appeared at my door every Thursday morning. Now I will have to buy them from a shop, and let’s face it, I will never bother to do that, as they are vegetables. Booooo, boooooo and triple booooooooo.
The Cider Delivery Service dropped round some free cider at Christmas to say thank you for my custom. I hope they are OK financially. To lose both vegetables and cider would cut the heart from the community.
I carry my final box indoors sadly, and wave goodbye to the Vegetable Delivery Lady. We have had some great times together, but I suppose all good things must come to an end.