Are you heading off to the Boxing Day and January sales this week? If so here’s just a little reminder on how not to piss off our nations retail workers…
1. Late night shoppers
The time is approaching 9:50pm, we’re staring at those last ten minutes as they drag painfully past, dreaming of escaping this mundane hell.
Feet aching, heads bouncing, we are hastily ushering out those last, idle shoppers, getting ready to close up shop and BAM, in strolls the casual idiot who deems it acceptable to roll in five minutes before closing time. HELLOOO??
Ambling around the aisles, BROWSING the bargains. Evidently deciding that TONIGHT would be the most appropriate time to begin stocking up on a monthly shop. We are closing now, and we want to go home.
Enlighten me, what is it about the retail setting, the fact I am dressed in some over-sized, hideous attire, this gleaming name badge that insists I’m here to help, that gives the public this apparent notion that they can hurl abuse at us with such foul disregard?
That, because I am here to serve, that they can speak to me however they like. AM I SHIT ON YOUR SHOE? Did you leave your manners at the door? Would you like to walk out and come back in again?
I’m so very sorry, I didn’t hear a THANK YOU for packing your 46 items when you were abundantly capable of doing so yourself. I’ll just go f@*# myself, shall I? I sure do appreciate you flinging your money at me like I’m too diseased to touch. Hold on 5 minutes, while I waste my time scrambling to pick up the loose change you have scattered all over my checkout. Thank you for having your head stuck in your phone as I attempt to converse in some polite small talk.
3. We always get the blame
Listen, its not our bloody fault that an item is out of stock. If something is, in your opinion, overpriced. Believe it or not, we just work here. We don’t control the prices!
“Well you can get this in Tesco for half the price, and it tastes better.” The bloody hell are you buying it here for then? Piss off to Tesco and quit barking complaints in my ear. Did you read the sign on the way in? Completely different company.
It really isn’t ridiculous. I really am not to blame for the fact the shelves are empty of any stuffing for your Christmas dinner when you have chosen to parade in at 4pm on CHRISTMAS EVE. Your poor disorganization skills are not my problem.
4. Tight Wads
“Look, look, there’s a minuscule thread dancing from the hem of this simple black t-shirt that I could quite simply snip off with a pair of scissors, causing no damage to the product. I am simply not paying £2.50 for that!”
“There’s a small print stain about the size of a speck of dust etched on the BACK of this basic £4 cushion you’ll never see, I demand money off.”
“A pair of shoes reduced to half PRICE… Who is the manager in charge? How outrageous, I am expected to pay when it is SUCH A BARGAIN!?”
Saving some money and getting some good quality products. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?
“Oh sure, hold on while I’ll give you it for free, my sincerest apologies. How dare we insist you pay almost nothing for something? What were we thinking?
5. Five items or less
Do you see that? That big bold sign swinging above my head that says FIVE ITEMS OR LESS.. That’s right, you skimmed it correctly. FIVE items, NOT fifty. This till is for a pint of milk, a loaf of bread, small baskets, swerve that damn bulging shopping trolley in the other direction.
6. Oh, wait, I have the 2p here!
No. No. Don’t fumble in the depth of your purse for that ugly copper coin you so long to get rid of. We don’t want it. You gave us the £10 note and we accepted it. It has already been calculated through the till. In my tense state of panic at the sudden swarm of customers filling my checkout with their shopping and my inability to perform basic arithmetic, I simply cannot ascertain why the hell you are providing me with a 2p piece. Can you mentally count when your head has been fried with same, inane banter for the last 8 hours? – “Are you lonely up here? You look bored, I’ll come and keep you busy.” No, I’m not lonely, I was quietly indulging in the solitude of this hidden checkout away from the hustle and bustle of harassed customers, hence why it was specifically targeted. The only thing I am bored of is this conversation which I would like to end abruptly.
7. Customers and Self Checkouts
“Oh, it’s not scanning? It must be free then!” *Que hysteric laugh*. I’ve heard that joke ten times today, Susan.
Self scan. The clue is in the title. Where one scans the shopping through ONESELF. Funnily enough. Do not trot over expecting us to speedily whisk through your items because you want to beat the queue at checkouts or because even the thought of lifting a finger to scan your own shopping leaves you panting for breath.
Do it yourself. I’m not a servant.
Why, oh dear Lord, why, have you sauntered over to the self checkout blatantly intended for a dozen or so items, a small shop, a mere basket filled with some day to day essentials, with a trolley, full to the brim?
We are ecstatic to now need to babysit you, to hover over your self scan for the next 20 minutes as you curse at the machine for not working. properly. It’s working fine. The problem is, that you are an idiot.
Take your handbag out of the bagging area, along with the child. It’s weighing your items. You are disrupting the scales and, quite frankly, my ever thinning patience.
“They make you work.. the holidays?” gasps the customer as I scan through her nonessential shop that could have waited until tomorrow… JANUARY 2nd.
“Christmas Eve, Boxing Day, Birthdays, New Year…. Yes, we really do need to work these deemed holidays.” Which I state, very matter-of-fact.
“but why ever for?” you shudder, perplexed at the thought. Hmm… What an evidently obvious question, let me ponder that..
Because of YOU, Louise, who has apparently nothing better to do than saunter around the supermarket she shops in every day, eyeing up items that are here EVERY OTHER DAY of the week, at 10am on New Years Day.
Get a life, Louise. Once you do, so can we!
Taylor is a 22-year-old, mum of 1 to her young son, living in Glasgow.
Filling notebooks with her stories since she was little, Taylor finally found her niche when she created her blog, Mums the Word, shortly after giving birth to her son, Arthur. Finding motherhood, an overwhelming, lonely and exhausting experience, she began spilling her views online and sharing motherhood from her own perspective.
Her biggest aspiration at the moment is to acquire 6 solid hours of uninterrupted sleep and to suss out how to get that infamous book deal.