My husband loves them, but I am ideologically opposed. Luckily for us both, a diplomatic taxi driver settled our row
I like to think of myself as a generous person with pockets of tightness, rather than a tight person with a blind spot in pubs. One of these pockets is around grocery delivery services. You know: you need a green pepper, a gale is blowing outside, so you get some poor kid on a bike to go to the supermarket for you and, by some miracle of modern capitalism, your pepper is only 30p more expensive than it would be normally, as long as you also order ice-cream.
It’s not the money that bugs me, just the underlying Marxist truism – that if some of us refuse to do any of our own menial tasks, others will end up doing all menial tasks for everyone. Plus, we live next door to a supermarket and I’m not even exaggerating, except by a small amount.
Zoe Williams is a Guardian columnist
