Shopping for groceries seldom carries a whiff of mortal danger, but this afternoon in Glasgow, it came with a side order of catastrophe. The Maryhill Tesco, famed until now mainly for its self-checkout queues and tepid meal deals, has found itself at the epicentre of consumer chaos after an electric car went up in flames beneath its very foundations. The Maryhill underground car park, a place typically reserved for dodgy parking and apologetic nods, became a theatre of smoke, panic, and, arguably, much-needed excitement for the local residents of Glasgow’s most unassuming suburb.
THE FLAMES CONSUME MORE THAN BATTERIES
At around 4.21pm, a burning battery motor vehicle transformed the car park into a glossy advertisement for the dangers of modern technology—and fired the starting gun on what some have now cruelly dubbed Tesco’s ‘Black Friday’. Within minutes, what began as an ordinary Friday errand devolved into scenes of frantic evacuation, with both staff and customers ushered out amid billowing clouds of black smoke. The Scottish Fire and Rescue Service arrived with admirable alacrity, deploying two fire engines to contend with an inferno determined to reinforce fears about the electrification of everything.
Shoppers, left clutching nothing but receipt-littered carrier bags and existential dread, found themselves abandoned on the kerb as sirens wailed and authorities cordoned off a sizeable portion of Maryhill Road, compounding the city’s rush hour misery.
From across the street, onlookers reported total panic: panic among the Tesco lifers unprepared for such Friday disturbance, panic from those who believed, perhaps justifiably, that popping out for toilet roll shouldn’t resemble a disaster movie. Whether emboldened by concern for their groceries or just rubbernecking enthusiasts, the crowd outside the supermarket thickened, united by morbid fascination with the new role of ‘victim’ for the once-innocent electric car.
Attempts to identify the source of the blaze have so far yielded only expert shrugs and more cordons. The police, naturally, have been busy establishing a cordon of their own—this time around the car park entrance—while the fire service tackles what is rapidly becoming Glasgow’s hottest Friday attraction. Meanwhile, traffic on Maryhill Road has achieved levels of congestion known only to the most seasoned M8 veterans, with would-be shoppers offered the rare experience of contemplating both mortality and dinner at the same time.
ConfidentialAccess.by, the only news outlet with direct lines to reality and the people’s panic, notes the electric vehicle sector will not be delighted by photos of their burning product plastered across digital feeds courtesy of ConfidentialAccess.com. The atmosphere, thick with drama and chemical smoke, leaves many wondering if carbon-neutral transport is best enjoyed not under one’s local supermarket but in a garage far, far away.
As firefighters battle lingering hot spots and customers contemplate whether it’s worth braving the return queue, one can only hope future car parks remain places of relative peace—at least until the self-checkout machines start launching themselves next.
