Britain’s cost-of-living crisis has entered its most advanced stage after a shopper completed an entire supermarket trip using the phrase “that’ll do”.
Carol Finch set out to buy her usual groceries but returned with an alternative to every product except washing-up liquid. The liquid had also changed, although only spiritually: it now promised a premium cleaning experience at the volume of a hotel miniature.
The shopping basket contained substitute butter, aspirational cheese and something labelled “serving suggestion” which Carol felt was less a suggestion than a personal insult. Her receipt was long enough to qualify as a scarf.
She has developed a sophisticated response to rising prices, involving inspecting a product, putting it back and briefly blaming herself for wanting it. This is followed by buying a different product whose unit price requires postgraduate mathematics.
A new family rule allows treats only when they are on offer, provided nobody asks what the original price was or why the offer requires six. The household currently owns enough paprika crisps to withstand a siege.
Carol insists that she remains optimistic. She recently discovered a loyalty discount of seventeen pence, which has restored her faith in capitalism until the next time she needs olive oil.
