More creepy mail from Tesco

Like a church trying to lure back its dwindling congregation, I think it must have dawned on Tesco that I've not been to worship in a while. As an honorary Clubcard holder my shopping habits are easier to track, and it looks like my absence in the aisles has been noted.

So I received some decidedly creepy mail from the supermarket this week containing some special coupons.

The message on the front of the jolly, Easter egg-peppered envelope, shouted in block capitals that it contained "12 EXCLUSIVE COUPONS ON THE THINGS YOU OFTEN BUY".

Okay, I thought. this should be interesting. I wonder what Tesco thinks I often buy.

I opened the letter expecting to find some silly offers for its most-popular products (which I imagine to be things like multi-packs of fizzy drinks and horse meat burgers).

Instead I got a bit of a shock.

The message inside informed me that Tesco had sent "a little something extra from us". The Clubcard team wrote: "We've chosen 12 exclusive bonus coupons just for you."

And flicking through the coupons, it became apparent that Tesco is actually able to monitor my shopping habits very closely. They included money off fresh greens or kale, green tea, Robinsons squash, the cheese counter, croissants, Yeo Valley natural yogurt, creme fraiche, pesto and anything from its own-brand meat free range.

These were all items that, up until three months ago, I very regularly put into my trolley.

So what do we think of this? Convenient? Thoughtful? Useful?

I'm not so sure. I actually found it rather creepy that (presumably thanks to my Clubcard) Tesco was able to track my shopping habits so closely. I can only conclude that there is a database somewhere that stores all this information and uses it to target and entice consumers.

In a way I guess my feelings are almost a contradiction. After all, Judi, who runs my local pet shop Hasland Pet Supplies, knows which brand of cat food I prefer. And Banana Bob, who delivers our weekly veg box, has a detailed list of our likes and dislikes. But these are actual people who I have conversations with. And like! Not some weird faceless "Clubcard team" (which is presumably a computer).

Judi knows the cat food I like because I've stood in her shop and had a conversation with her about it, as well as numerous other things. But when I was swiping my Clubcard at one of those impersonal self-service tills, little did I know that my preferences were being recorded and stored.

Sorry Tesco, I don't like it and I'm not biting. This shopper is staying supermarket-free and those coupons are going in the recycling bin.