I made a pivotal change to my meals after discovering the magic of little red reduction stickers. On a budget of £21 a month, I stopped eating onions, carrots, and rice—not because I disliked them, but because I could now choose my meals with more variety and indulgence. Back then, these reduced stickers didn’t have barcodes, making them incredibly straightforward to use.
To my advantage, the security guards at the shop had gotten used to me. They observed me for days and understood that I wasn’t a thief. No, I didn’t steal; I merely relocated stickers from cheap reduced items to expensive non-reduced ones.
From certain surfaces, the stickers peeled off easily. I transferred them to non-reduced items, carefully affixing them over the expiry date so the cashier wouldn’t notice. The process was seamless, but I knew CCTV was watching, so I took calculated risks.
The plan was simple: I would enter the shop, select the items I wanted, and “reduce” them by swapping stickers. I’d then place the items at the very back of the shelf and leave the shop empty-handed. Since I’d memorized the shop layout, I returned two days later and collected the items. If they became suspicious and questioned me, I was prepared for the consequences. The CCTV would show me entering the shop and removing the item from the shelf—case closed. The trick was not to overdo it.
Once a week was enough to get by. It worked well, though certain items posed challenges. For example, if I needed a tin of tuna, I’d knock it onto the floor to dent it or scratch the label. To the cashier, it appeared reduced because of the damage.
One of my favourite items was sesame cream, a delectable spread similar to peanut butter but far tastier and prohibitively expensive. It came in a glass jar with a paper seal through the lid. The cream wasn’t firm, so I devised a strategy: I carefully popped off the lid, breaking the seal, and tipped the jar just enough to spill a little of its contents onto the outside. Then, I replaced the lid. A 30p sticker, previously removed from a bag of salad, was ready in my palm. I applied it to the jar, reducing its price from £3.99 to 30p.
As usual, I placed the jar at the back of the shelf. Two days later, it was still there. Some items would occasionally disappear, but it didn’t matter. In a way, I was inadvertently helping others score a bargain too.
This strategy allowed me to survive and eat well while staying within my budget. It was all about playing the game, but never overstepping, always ensuring I stayed just under the radar.