I will not be bullied

Yesterday I officially put a line through my week from hell. Of course, it may begin again tomorrow as I have a date with the most handsome dentist in the world, where there will be some rooting but not the good kind.

Root canal therapy. Oh, don’t you worry. I am taking Aunty Val with me.

Anyway, I have been spending FAR too much time in shopping centres due to the lack of power since the storm, which is not ideal as they can trigger my anxiety, as I detest slow walkers and slow walkers have an addiction to shopping centres.

I went to visit my gals at Country Road as they have their Spend and Save happening and Mr Woog only shops during spend and save. I asked one of them how they dealt with the loop of Christmas carols on constantly. She hissed that she “fucking cannot stand it” and I told her that they should get a carol penalty because if I had to serve slow walkers while listening to Micheal Buble constantly I would definitely lose my shit.

I will get to the point of this blog post now.

I have written at least a dozen times about buying Nespresso capsules at the Nespresso shop and every time I do, one of two things happen. I get hate mail from greenies or I get comments how I should just buy them online.

But I am not organised enough.

I find going to the Nespresso Shop more stressful than going to the dentist, if I can be honest. And it always comes down to the membership.

“Four sleeves of Appegio please.”

The young man yesterday asked for my membership. I explained that I didn’t have one. I declined his offer for him to join me up. He explained to me that by me not having a membership made his job more difficult, which made absolutely no sense to me. Apparently, they have to make a fake profile for every non-member. TO. BUY. COFFEE.

It got very, very awkward.

He told me that by having a membership meant that my machine would be repaired in a more efficient manner.

I politely declined and said I was completely fine with out a membership.

He implored that my life would be infinetly better if the store had my details. And I kind of snapped and told him that I did not want to be a part of data collection and this is the sort of thing that began Gilead.

I had crossed the path of being a normal citizen and am now THAT person who that poor boy would have gone home to his shared house and told his flatmates over ramen noodles “You would not believe this moll that came into the store today…”

Why can’t we just buy stuff anymore? Exchange goods for currently.

Discuss.