Help! I’m addicted to Deliveroo – and it’s caused me to splurge on some absolutely ridiculous orders

For most people, Deliveroo has become the go-to for a takeaway. Where we’d once compile a list and ring the local Chinese or, god help us, drive to collect our fish and chips order, the delivery app now gives us a world of choice at the click of a button. 

And Brits seemingly can’t get enough of it, with Deliveroo’s UK turnover topping £2 billion last year.

But it’s not all saucy wings and greasy pizza. Deliveroo has just released a list of its most ordered items, and it’s left lots of customers scratching their heads (and not just because salads were the second and third most ordered dish). 

The fourth ‘trending dish’ was a whole cucumber; the 10th was a bottle of white wine. The 16th most ordered item from Deliveroo this year? Protein bars. Yum!

If you use Deliveroo for the traditional means – indulging in takeout every now and then – I understand your confusion. But to me, the list makes perfect sense. 

I too use Deliveroo as everything from a personal courier to an inefficient (and expensive) supermarket delivery service. I am entirely addicted – and it’s led to some absolutely ridiculous orders.

Scarlett Dargan has confessed to be being completely addicted to Deliveroo – and it has lef to her making what she calls ridiculous orders

Scarlett use Deliveroo as everything from a personal courier to an inefficient (and expensive) supermarket delivery service

My cooking skills leave a lot to be desired. Which means Deliveroo is a necessity if I’m going to get any kind of nutrients. 

While most people slave over their healthy dishes and order a greasy takeout when they’re fed up, I order delivery when I need sustenance.

My most regularly ordered items are poke bowls and salads. On September 5th, I placed an order for three Atis Seiz’a salads with blackened chicken to see me through the weekend. 

That’s £33 worth of salad – and I thought I’d been thrifty by buying them all at once and only paying one £3 delivery fee.

But food is only the start of it. Anyone who knows me knows that every Sunday night, I give up vaping ‘for good this time’. 

Unfortunately, by a Tuesday evening, I’m in my pyjamas and itching for nicotine. Throughout summer, I ordered a Pink Lemonade Elf Bar (a type of disposable vape) – on its own – five times in as many weeks from Deliveroo’s convenience store. 

My next most frequently ordered item? Lemonade, as in a mixer for gin and lemonade. I’ll leave you to judge my will power. 

‘Another order, placed the day before I left for Glastonbury, comprised a vape, a toothbrush and a bumper pack of Panadol (£17.79)’ (A stock photo of disposable vapes)

Scarlett said: ‘While most people slave over their healthy dishes and order a greasy takeout when they’re fed up, I order delivery when I need sustenance’

Scarlett once ordered a bag of Torres black truffle crisps (pictured) among other items rather than walk 50 yards to the nearest Tesco from her flat 

Scarlett says without Deliveroo she would be a lot richer and much less lazy – but also be way more miserable and a lot hungrier (pictured is a Deliveroo cargo box near a parked bicycle)

One of Scarlett’s most frequently bought items is a bottle of lemonade (pictured is a stock image of Schweppes lemonade) which she uses as a mixer for gin

In the UK, it appears that Britons are wild for wings, with the 8-piece boneless from Wingstop in London taking the top spot

It gets worse. There was the time I bought a pint of milk, a family size bag of Torres black truffle crisps and a pack of Philadelphia for £9 (and a £2.95 delivery fee) at 9pm (?) rather than walk the 50 yards to the Tesco next door to my flat. 

Another order, placed the day before I left for Glastonbury, comprised a vape, a toothbrush and a bumper pack of Panadol (£17.79).

The worst, however, came on the 18th August. Recovering from a chest infection and deprived of human contact, I decided to order hair bleach from Boots (£11, a £2 small order fee and a £1.10 delivery fee) to dye my eyebrows. 

I paid £14.10 to basically look like I’d had a bald-Britney-era breakdown.

Long story short, without Deliveroo I would be a lot richer and much less lazy. I’d also be way more miserable and a lot hungrier. 

And at least I’m not as bad as the Tunbridge Wells residents, who Deliveroo-ed more champagne than anywhere else in the country. That really is ridiculous…