Chapter 8: Supermarket

The cupboard in Jack’s kitchen presented a depressing site for anyone hoping for a meal. Jack looked at the few packets and cans hoping for inspiration. It didn’t come. He would need some food today, even if it was just some bread, eggs and milk. He couldn’t afford to be eating in the college canteen all week so at least some basic supplies would be needed.

He checked his watch. He had a couple of hours before curfew, plenty of time to get the things he needed and get back. There was no point running the risk of getting arrested, even though around the college area, the MCF seemed to be a bit less bothered about enforcement and the college staff didn’t seem too worried either.

The supermarket was about half a mile away. It was only a ten minute walk but Jack had to watch out for “women only” and “no unaccompanied males” street signs. It took a bit longer than it should have done as a new stretch of road had been designated “women only”.

When he got there, as usual, there was a queue. They only let so many unaccompanied men in at one time. Jack imagined it was because they were worried in case there was going to be mass raid on the bread or the washing powder. Given how little spare cash most men had, he supposed that shop-lifting could be a legitimate concern but even then there ought to be an easier solution, especially since – Jack reckoned – a good fifty percent of those in the queue were men that had been sent out shopping by their womenfolk. He stood with the other men waiting, shuffling forward every few minutes as another man emerged from the store. It was hard not to scowl at the women that just strode by, entering as they pleased.

Eventually, he got inside.

The place was a microcosm of life of national life under New Order, Jack thought as he browsed the shelves. Towards the back of the store, the manager was talking with two of her staff, women naturally, all smartly dressed, engaged in some sort of discussion about how the stock should be displayed and whether they thought Jim or Terry was reliable enough to do something complicated like finding the right stuff in the store room. They took no notice as a young man in a jacket branded with the store’s logo and carrying a cleaning bucket and mop edged by. Other men, and it was exclusively men, were at their checkouts, all wearing the same uniform jackets; all apparently happy to have some sort of paid work. Jack looked at them feeling depressed. Unless he managed to sort out his work placement for college he could see himself ending up doing something similar.

Jack picked up his basic needs, putting the items in his basket. It was just as well he wasn’t hoping to buy alcohol; that was in a “no unaccompanied men” aisle. It wasn’t that men couldn’t buy alcohol, it was just that it was usually somewhere they couldn’t go. It was exactly this sort of petty restriction that Jack was finding himself increasingly annoyed with.

There were a few women shopping as well. A couple were on their own. One scowled at Jack as though he had no right to be there. A couple had men with them, pushing the shopping trolleys and picking things off the shelves as they were asked.

He ended up with half a dozen things in his basket. There were only two checkouts for unaccompanied men and there was quite a queue but the store certainly didn’t trust men to use the self-scan checkouts. Jack could only wait until a glum checkout operator was available to serve him. As he reached the head of the queue the operator was suddenly called away by the manager. She was standing talking to a woman customer. After some waving of hands, Jack’s checkout operator scurried off to the back of the store and returned to the woman clutching a box that she obviously hadn’t been able to find for herself. Scowling the checkout operator returned to his seat to scan and bag jack’s few items. Jack didn’t even get the obligatory and insincere, ‘have a nice day’ that was accorded women customers.

It was a dispiriting experience but at least he had his supplies. He was aiming to spend the evening in his room, studying. That way he would have time free on the following day to go down to the Fitzroy Square demo. If CRMRE, whoever they were, could make his shopping trips a bit easier that would be a result on its own.