One of the Bourgeois.


Yesterday, I went into Marks and Spencer to buy some halloumi and a couple of bottles of red wine. I’ve seldom felt so middle-class.

It’s disturbing when you reach the stage of your life when this becomes your shopping list. A few years ago I hadn’t even encountered halloumi. What happened in the interim?

It’s not just the aspirational nature of my checklist that concerns me; it’s the fact it illustrates that I’ve now become an adult. There was a time when buying alcohol would prompt a suspicious look from the cashier and a request to see some identification. Not anymore; the woman who served me yesterday didn’t even flinch.

Ultimately, I must embrace the situation (but not the cashier). I may currently reside in that strange hinterland between Young Person’s and Senior Railcard eligibility…but that’s okay. Such is life; accept it.

Now where do I need to go to score some houmous?

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