dave lewis tesco jacks

Cherubs, I will do my utmost to avoid the topic of Frexit this week, as to be perfectly honest there is nothing I can say that would be more damning than pointing out that we, as a nation, voted for what is now actually happening.

Oh well. At least I’ve had the distraction of Jack’s opening its doors this week. Now you might think the entire nation is on a rapid enough plunge into awfulness without throwing yet another discounter into the mix. But it’s my job to understand what Frexit will look like, and why we’re in this mess in the first place, so I got myself on the invite list (who didn’t?), and asked the Frexit driver, Clarke, to take me to Chatteris, a place more pokey, more downmarket, and even further away than Cheshunt, I quickly discovered.

(I also invited Andrea Boscelli, the blind boss of the Competition & Markets Authority, to come with me - “to see what competition looks like” - and you know what, he was suddenly busy, announcing a Phase 2 investigation into Jasda and its harmony-loving CEO Mike Droupe.)

But back to Jack’s. A shifty Clarke refused to drop me at the door, for some reason, but once I had slummed it from the back of the car park, I found the store tour tremendous fun, seeing all those nods to German efficiency and hearing Drastic’s assurances on Jack’s British sourcing commitments, and its promise to price match the competition.

I’m sure you will agree that price matching has worked wonders for the John Lewis Partnership, with Sir Charlie Mayfield instead blaming Frexit for the market falling out of his bottom. Still, you know what they say about an ill wind blowing nobody any good?

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