This is a blog post that belongs in the 'Food Of' because of the store involved, but also would be equally at home in the 'World Of' blog because, yes, it's a rant.
But not MY rant. This was a note that was sent to Tesco's Facebook page from a guy named Jon Marsh, who was understandably upset. It's now gone a bit viral, as evidenced by the 3,000+ comments on the original post. Here's the note:
Let me make you aware of something truly ridiculous. Yesterday my wife and I, aged 29 and 28 respectively, were refused a single bottle of wine along with our food shopping. You may ask "didn't you have any ID?" but the answer is yes, I did. I was the one paying, i immediately showed my ID, but I was still refused as the cashier said that "unless all members of a GROUP can show they are over 18 Tesco won't serve alcohol".I immediately identified with this because I had a similar experience a few years ago. Let me tell you a story.
Firstly, since when was a married couple a GROUP? The clue's in the name, a married COUPLE. Secondly, your company owes me an apology for accusing me, publicly I hasten to add, of buying wine for someone they believe to be a minor. SHE'S 28!!!! Your awful counter staff member's attitude was only bettered by the duty manager, who later in the day swapped shifts with a chocolate teapot.
Basically, your pathetic, unnecessary and frankly ridiculous stance on this is beyond a joke. I think you need to make it clear where the line is drawn here. I expect from now on any parent can't buy alcohol from your stores with their children present?! You have lost a customer for life, well done. I just hope others switch their purchases to Sainsburys, who not only happily served us but laughed at your companies' actions.
Back in 1995, when I was planning my 30th birthday party, I decided to make it a '70s themed party. This, of course, was before '70s themed parties got popular and then became passé. I wanted to do '70s food, so we went for fondues - both cheese and chocolate.
As you probably know, chocolate fondue requires the use of Kirsch, and my mother-in-law had about a half-bottle so she lent it to me. It was a fine party and everyone enjoyed themselves, by which I mean all the booze got consumed, to the point where people were hunting for more alcohol... and then someone found the Kirsch.
So the next day I had to set out to the liquor store to purchase a bottle of Kirsch to replace the now-empty one. So while my wife went to Safeway for groceries, I tripped along to the local liquor store.
At the time I was a resident of Lake Stevens in Washington State. The liquor stores are State-run affairs and you need ID no matter what age you are. I was unaware of this, thinking that the fact that I'd just turned 30 and was sporting a beard would be evidence enough that I was indeed 'of age'. Couple that to the fact that before I'd moved halfway across the world I had been in the employ of Thresher Wine Merchants for 6 years. So it was that when I found the replacement liqueur ( a word, by the way, that I have found that NO American, and I mean NO American, can pronounce correctly. It's lik-yerr, folks. They all want to say lick-orrr. Why is this? I digress.) and sauntered casually up to the counter to make my purchase, the clerk asked me for ID. I immediately produced my I-551 Resident Alien card, a.k.a. my Green card, which displayed on its front side my likeness, name, alien registration number, signature and thumbprint as well as the words '|Issued by U.S. Department of Justice'. (They don't say that anymore - it's all USCIS now). I figured this would be good enough. 'Here I am, liquor store man. 30 years old, hairy, and carrying a government-issued ID. This must be good enough.'
Apparently not. Liquor store guy did not what the hell I was proffering in his direction. Said he wanted a Washington State-issued ID. So I'm thinking, the State ID is somehow more legit than the US Dept of Justice-issued Government-made ID?
So now I had to skip along past Sprouse-Reitz (or SPROUSE! as the sign said) and Mitchell's to Safeway and find my wife, who was by now checking out with a cart full of groceries, and explain to her my lack of success at the house o' liquor. After sniggering heartily, she agreed to go along to the store and help me out. This woman, who by the way is 14 months my junior, went into the liquor store, took the Kirsch up to the counter and said, "I hear you wouldn't serve my boy."
And that, my friends, is why I will never make anything with Kirsch. Ever.