I WAS blessed with a child-free and fine-weathered day at the weekend so broke with normal weekend tradition of doing housework and being a 12-hr children's entertainer and jumped on a bus to Chester.
It was foolish not to, having lived right nextdoor to a bus stop for the past 15 years. That way, I could do a shop-bar-shop-bar sort of trip. And shop-bar-shop-bar I did .... until I was stopped in my tracks at the price of booze in these wooden-floored joints that grace the big city.
For one day only, I turned all cosmopolitan and ordered a glass of wine at a trendy wine bar. I'll not name and shame the bar itself because it's my own fault I bowed down and coughed up, but in a nutshell, think of slimy garden pests and crisp salad leaves... say no more.
I was gobsmacked to put it lightly at being asked for six pounds and forty fine English pence in return for what I can only describe as the worst glass of Rose I've ever got down me in my life ... and those who know me will know there have been many!
I'd only asked for ONE glass I thought to myself as I picked myself up off the deck, choked back the tears of shock and fumbled around in my purse for the extra cash. The days of getting change out of a fiver for one drink are seemingly long gone, and I, for one, think it's an absolute outrage.
I can't imagine for one minute paying 12.66 US dollars for the same bevvy. Or 132.73 Mexican pesos or even 514.26 Indian rupees. And as for 1,327.63 Japanese yen .... But then, if we're prepared to pay these extortionate over-inflated prices, the big companies are perfectly within their rights to charge them.
Nuff said.
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