It’s hardly even serious enough to be labelled a Middle-Class Problem, but trotting around supermarkets trying to find things is definitely one of those little things that are sent to try us. Now, praise be to the patron saint of things that make you go “tut”, Sainsbury’s is working on a supermarket satnav to help solve the problem.

Trials are taking place of a global positioning system for wandering groceries, which would locate any item that a customer types in and map the shortest route to it through the store. It won’t tell you why the microwave popcorn is with the home baking ingredients and not, say, the popcorn; or why milk is not next to cream; or how come coconut milk is never in the same place two weeks running; or how they make all roads lead to the temporary gardening and enticing summer loveliness department, where I will be forced by some form of hypnosis to buy two sets of solar-powered lights and a retro tin box marked “seeds” in pale sage green against my will and better judgement and in spite of it costing a fiver. But at least it ought to show us where they’ve been hiding the mint sauce.

Do we believe it, though? Those of us who work in London are wise to these companies whose helpful directions are really wasting our time. In many Underground stations and certain concert venues, the “exit” signs lead customers like sheep around a maze of corridors in order to reduce overcrowding on the direct routes. The savviest handful of commuters know to ignore these signs: always head for the ticket hall at King’s Cross; never head for the ticket hall at Notting Hill Gate!

Supermarkets have previous in this. I already tremble like a gambler at a roulette wheel as I wait at the supermarket checkout ready to try to game the loyalty-card points system. I’ve tried randomising my shopping trips, spending my points and saving them up, and even swapping loyalty cards with members of my family just to confuse the system. But you can’t beat the casino, which is why I have a card full of useless points, a cupboard full of half-price cat biscuits, and an empty fridge. However, every bin day I notice that all my neighbours drink the same brand of yellow-label Rioja, which just goes to show how suggestible (and middle class) we really are.

There’s another new invention that fills me with even more fear, however, and that’s “the first human satnav”, which guides tourists around cities using electrodes strapped to their legs. A natty idea, but I can see it being used for evil. Let’s say I strap myself in and programme the legs to take me directly to the coconut milk, not passing biscuits and completely bypassing the reasonably priced Tempranillo. There’s no way that those electrodes aren’t going to be attracted by the solar-powered lights, is there? Somebody had better hide my wallet.

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