Countdown Fusion



No. Let the reduced bread rolls get stuck.


How can I be a capable, competent, semi-educated, semi-upright woman and be writing about a supermarket?

Coz we all need supermarkets.  We all go to them.

We all wander around with the small basket Vague Shopping and then crave a trolley because we are going to overspend.

It’s important.

When I go on Sunday nights, the dads are there struggling to fulfill the hand-scrawled list for lunch box fillers. Sometimes terse discussion takes place over the phone:

Well, I’m here in front of the snack section but I can’t see the nuts that have been cleansed by Evian streams … but in my trolley darls, I have everything else you asked for:

  • snacking apples that can be eaten in four bites
  • kiwi fruit forced to live berry size
  • yoghurt suckies
  • and a copy of The Penguins of Madagasgar
  • and three packs of the ‘cards’
  • a reader
  • the fucking folder
  • the tin
  • another reader for the toddler who doesn’t collect the cards but doesn’t understand if they don’t get a snake call reader
  • a hot water bottle from the Reduced Items section
  • pair of bamboo jockeys 2 pack
  • some old cheese rolls, down to $1.39*
  • piss.  A case of Asahi, and a Mission Estate varietal for SWiMBO**
  • Eta Ripples.  3 for $5.  5 OneCard Points
  • bar of Milkybar
  • shaved ham
  • shaving foam
  • shavers
  • a copy of M2
  • Prozac (20 OneCard points)
  • hair filler

it’s all there at Countdown.  As I write this, I am myself drinking the Pinot Noir I bought from my local.  I used the Self Help counter, and never have I once got through that without attracting the sorrowful empathy of the supervisor who has to come and swipe me out of jammed hell each and every time.

I love you Countdown.


*this item will get stuck in the self help scanner

** She Who Must Be Obeyed

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