The Village Shop has been going from strength to strength since my extensive multi-channel leafleting campaign.
I am pleased to see it doing so well. They have a good combination of standard things that people need and finer things that might make them a small profit. I always nose around the displays whilst my pint of milk is being rung up on the sophisticated electronic till.
Something stops me in my tracks.
“What,” I ask, very slowly and carefully, “is this?”
The Village Shop lady looks up from her transaction.
I stare at her, and then stare at the three jars in front of me, given a prominent position above the pork chops. “It is German mustard. In the pot the shape of a beer glass. German mustard.” I wave my hands helplessly around the shop. “People do not come in here to buy German mustard. Not even the tourists.”
She purses her lips. “Well Granville brought it in from the cash and carry this morning – he was very proud of finding it.”
“It is German mustard, in a pot the shape of a beer glass. How many of these do you expect to sell?!?”
“All of them!”
I shake my head in exasperation and read the label carefully.
“It’s from Aldi!” I boggle at her. “You are trying to sell, on your premium display, three items of German mustard, in pots the shape of beer glasses, from Aldi. You cannot sell stuff from Aldi in here. It is the Lidl Lidl.”
“It’s not from Aldi is it? Where does it say that?”
“I tell you what,” I offer generously. “I will give you half price for this now. That way it will save you time when the sell-by date expires and you have to mark it down to half price.”
She turns this down, offended. I don’t know. I try to help people with the benefit of my extensive retailing knowledge but they just won’t be told.
The next morning I go to the Village Shop once more, to buy bread and a newspaper. I glance over to the display. Only two pots remain.