As a person, I’m very easily pleased. Perhaps it’s because life is so dull that even the simple pleasures mean a lot to me. Or maybe I’m just like that. After all, when I was practicing for my job interview (the only bloody one I’ve been fortunate enough to get), I did describe my “ideal weekend” as nothing other than good food, good friends and good entertainment, but not necessarily in that order. Not a bit adventurous, am I.

So it is with that in mind that one most consider the following anecdote. 

Supermarkets are the bane of most people’s existence. No one really enjoys going food shopping. You pile it high and end up with a great deal of remorse at the end. What the hell are you actually going to do with those haricot beans? Will you really drink all that milk before the expiry date? Is there much point in all those air fresheners when you’ve got a stinking dog/cat/hamster/other assorted animal? And so it goes on.

But to me, there is one thing I look forward to on every shopping journey. 

It is the arrival in the dairy isle. That sweet heaven that contains therein the thick milky goodness of Frijj milkshakes. They are always there, waiting, in delicious chocolate, banana, strawberry and, my favourite, chocolate brownie varieties. They play their siren song, and I am commanded to place in the trolley.

But, like Odysseus, I have to be restrained, because there is one condition that must be fulfilled in order to take advantage of this 10g of fat indulgence. 

There has to be some sort of offer going on. Normal Frijj is priced at around 99p. Unacceptably expensive in my book. Though it is delicious, and allegedly nutritious due to its high calcium levels, I simply cannot justify a whole sovereign for the beverage. Or is it a beverage? Some say that it’s like Guinness: a meal in a glass. Only this time it’s a meal in a plastic bottle.

So often I am disappointed upon my arrival to the dairy isle. It taunts me with its high prices, and much as I might want to buy it, my brain tells me no.

But there is a good end to this tale. The other day it was very much on offer. In truth, Frijj is probably on offer in a supermarket somewhere in the country throughout the entire year. It makes me think that it mustn’t sell very well at the higher prices – for those of us unfortunate enough to have done business studies at school or in university, Frijj has extremely high price elasticity of demand. A 50% drop in price, I imagine produces a much greater increase in demand.

It certainly does when I’m around anyway. I go from zero consumption to buying it every time I’m in there. And sometimes I’ll even make a special visit to stock up in the Frijjy goodness. Oh yes.

I entered the dairy aisle with much trepidation, as usual. Lo! What is that in the distance? A bright yellow POS market. It must be good news! 

And sure enough, it was. ASDA are selling it two for £1. Bargain. That’s ASDA price, apparently. 

I left the supermarket with 10 Frijjs.

And I was very, very happy. 

Like I said, I’m very easily pleased.