4 days ago
Takeaway culture is out of control – when did we become so entitled and lazy?
I consider myself to be a law-abiding citizen. But sometimes you have to stand up for what you believe in, maybe even take up arms and defend yourself and those you love against an existential threat.
The news that Deliveroo has launched its first drone delivery service in Dublin, so we can eventually all get even fatter and poorer without leaving the house, is just such a moment in time.
Which is why I'm in the market for a high-energy laser weapon. Nothing fancy – just enough firepower to take out the takeout, shoot down the poke bowl and incinerate those horrid, claggy barbecue chicken wings.
The truth is, I loathe takeaway culture to begin with. The idea that food, groceries and bottles of wine are being flown over my home, over my head, makes me apoplectic.
Did anyone ask permission for my airspace to be co-opted for the safe passage of a lukewarm McDonald's to Number 24? No they did not. And who will be in charge of directing the drone traffic? One midair crash and those nachos and guacamole will take someone's eye out.
Deliveroo, like its rivals Uber Eats and Just Eat, began as a delivery service for hot food. You ordered online and within half an hour or so, a miserable-looking driver or cyclist would pitch up with dinner. It felt quite glamorous to start with, a cheeky Friday night treat in a thrilling brown paper carrier.
Now, it's become a national obsession; I know of households where they order takeaways most nights.
Figures from Deliveroo show that in my London borough, Hackney, the most-ordered grocery item is Co-op Sea Salt Crisps, whereas in Kensington and Chelsea it's kimchi from Whole Foods. In Tower Hamlets the Sainsbury's lunchtime meal deal reigns supreme.
How did we reach the point in civilisation where people are too entitled and lazy to get up off the sofa and fetch their own sodding crisps? Who suffers from a late night kimchi emergency?
And what sort of nutter is willing to spend a small fortune ordering coffee and a pricey Danish every morning when they could, oh I don't know; buy a jar of coffee and a pack of croissants in the supermarket?
I've got a kettle, baked goods and a cupboard devoted to spices, including a grinder. But what happens when my daughters feel peckish? They order in. Secretly. Why? Because it is an insult to my cooking, unhealthy and expensive and I will absolutely lose it if I find out.
The elder one has a job so I can't really stop her. When I refuse to give the younger one cash… her boyfriend orders it and sends it round to the house.
Multiply that by every Gen Zer on my residential road and I can foresee squadrons of irritating drones buzzing about all hours of the day and night. Which is why I need to take action.
The only issue is that I don't know how to lay my hands on a high-energy laser weapon. Don't judge me, but I wonder if Deliveroo does them...
