"Where do you work?"
Oh that dreaded question again. I fight back a little embarasment as I tell her the name of the supermarket which employs me.
Bang. There it is, the spark of what we just had being crushed by my oh so shitty job.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a Customer Assistant Lifer, I have an honnors degree in Biology and I have aspirations way beyond my current position. What I have learned though, is that your asperations don't really matter. So much in life is not what you know, or even how good you are. Its the connections you have, and the opportunities that come your way.
Unfortunatly in my home town, opportunities are few and far between.
This isn't some sort of sob story though, in fact - its pretty much the exact opposite. As genres go, it's a little comedy, mixed with a little horror. This is my diary, passing on the things I have seen in my time at this major supermarket. I have no evidene other than my pay-slips and my words on here. I can't afford secret camers or descreet audio, yet I think people should know about what I have seen. It hasn't exactly been pretty.
So, here goes: this is the start of my story.
...Cages
I'm dragging a heavy cage across the shop floor.
You know the kind; metal, four wheels, full of some kind of produce (apples in this case) and heavy as HELL. I'm sure you will have seen some poor bastard dragging one around on a visit to your local superstore. Or perhpaps, you wont have, because when I'm hauling one of these bad-boys through the store people seem to literally ignore my presence.
Honestly, I dont understand it. Its not like they are inconspicuous... they are not easy to miss. They're over six feet tall, and make a huge grinding, trundeling racket when rolling.
Here we are though, case in point. I've just turned the conrner onto my department (produce; fruit, veg that kind thing) and I need to get to the bottom of the isle, to the mod (shelf) with the apples on. Unfortunatly in-between my destination and I there is a blockage. A large, freshy blockage.
I'm talking about three trollies, and four...overly large people, stood having a chat in the middle of one of the isles. I would have trouble squeizing past them if they were thin, but right now its impassable.
I jam my heels into the ground to slow my cage down, which makes a loud rattleing noise. Do they look around? No. The largest of the women laughs at something one of the other blockage causers has said.
I adress the woman closest to me, ''excuse me'' I say easily loud enough to be heard. I am always polite, no matter how goddamn annoying it is that people talk in large groups in the middle of the isles. It isn't hard to step to one side!
She ignores me. Totally absorbed in what the fattest woman is now saying. I ask her again, this time the man across the isle hears me and turns (he is probably ten feet fruther away from me), yet the blockage causer doesn't even blink.
Right.
I reach out, say excuse me one final time and tap her on the arm.
BAD MOVE.
Judging by the way her head snaps around, her GLARE and the way her face is twsited, she obviously has some sort of serious arm complaint which causes her intense pain when touched. Oh wait, no, I saw the only man of the group touching it as I apporached. Obviously the thought of someone as lowly as a customer assistant touching her was too much to bear politley.
At least she moves. Well, by that I mean she drags her trolley a little closer to her huge mass and takes a step further into the group. It's still going to be a pain to get through, but hey, I always did like a challenge. I turn towards the cage, grab it and start to pull my weight backward to start it rolling again.
Just as I turn around to try and negotiate the newly formed space, a kind gentleman rams his trolley into the gap. Shit, we're going to collide, Ive just got the cage roling; I physically cant stop it in the bare foot I have left.
At the LAST second physcially possible he swerves, hitting the largest womans trolly; pushing it into her. I again stop my cage to make sure everyone is ok... but the man has simply carried on and not even looked back. When I glance at the fat woman, I get a scowel and a dissaproving look as if I am somehow the one at fault.
Wonderful.
One of my co-workers has seen the incident and laughs as I pass her "At least no one has run a trolley into you today..."
You know the kind; metal, four wheels, full of some kind of produce (apples in this case) and heavy as HELL. I'm sure you will have seen some poor bastard dragging one around on a visit to your local superstore. Or perhpaps, you wont have, because when I'm hauling one of these bad-boys through the store people seem to literally ignore my presence.
Honestly, I dont understand it. Its not like they are inconspicuous... they are not easy to miss. They're over six feet tall, and make a huge grinding, trundeling racket when rolling.
Here we are though, case in point. I've just turned the conrner onto my department (produce; fruit, veg that kind thing) and I need to get to the bottom of the isle, to the mod (shelf) with the apples on. Unfortunatly in-between my destination and I there is a blockage. A large, freshy blockage.
I'm talking about three trollies, and four...overly large people, stood having a chat in the middle of one of the isles. I would have trouble squeizing past them if they were thin, but right now its impassable.
I jam my heels into the ground to slow my cage down, which makes a loud rattleing noise. Do they look around? No. The largest of the women laughs at something one of the other blockage causers has said.
I adress the woman closest to me, ''excuse me'' I say easily loud enough to be heard. I am always polite, no matter how goddamn annoying it is that people talk in large groups in the middle of the isles. It isn't hard to step to one side!
She ignores me. Totally absorbed in what the fattest woman is now saying. I ask her again, this time the man across the isle hears me and turns (he is probably ten feet fruther away from me), yet the blockage causer doesn't even blink.
Right.
I reach out, say excuse me one final time and tap her on the arm.
BAD MOVE.
Judging by the way her head snaps around, her GLARE and the way her face is twsited, she obviously has some sort of serious arm complaint which causes her intense pain when touched. Oh wait, no, I saw the only man of the group touching it as I apporached. Obviously the thought of someone as lowly as a customer assistant touching her was too much to bear politley.
At least she moves. Well, by that I mean she drags her trolley a little closer to her huge mass and takes a step further into the group. It's still going to be a pain to get through, but hey, I always did like a challenge. I turn towards the cage, grab it and start to pull my weight backward to start it rolling again.
Just as I turn around to try and negotiate the newly formed space, a kind gentleman rams his trolley into the gap. Shit, we're going to collide, Ive just got the cage roling; I physically cant stop it in the bare foot I have left.
At the LAST second physcially possible he swerves, hitting the largest womans trolly; pushing it into her. I again stop my cage to make sure everyone is ok... but the man has simply carried on and not even looked back. When I glance at the fat woman, I get a scowel and a dissaproving look as if I am somehow the one at fault.
Wonderful.
One of my co-workers has seen the incident and laughs as I pass her "At least no one has run a trolley into you today..."
Mondays
Well, I swear, Monday must be fat day.
Over half of the people who visited my Supermarket today were over-weight. They ranged in size from what must have been moderately over-weight, to being so huge a ''danger, wide load'' sticker would have been appropriate.
It's funny too, because you can tell the fat people, not just from what's in their baskets but the words which come out of their mouths.
I can almost guarantee you, the woman f'ing and blinding across the isle from me, is going to be over weight. The man, growling at his wife about the salad they are buying... yes. Over weight too.
The fat people who visit my supermarket, are more often than not, the most aggressive unpleasant customers, I have to deal with. It's like as their size grows, so does the amount of respect they believe society should give them! Fat people are rarely polite to me. When they ask where a product is, and I take them, its a truly unusual occurrence for them to smile and thank me.
Maybe if they put a little more effort into not being rude bastards, the effort it would be for some of them, may even burn enough calories to make them thin.
Over half of the people who visited my Supermarket today were over-weight. They ranged in size from what must have been moderately over-weight, to being so huge a ''danger, wide load'' sticker would have been appropriate.
It's funny too, because you can tell the fat people, not just from what's in their baskets but the words which come out of their mouths.
I can almost guarantee you, the woman f'ing and blinding across the isle from me, is going to be over weight. The man, growling at his wife about the salad they are buying... yes. Over weight too.
The fat people who visit my supermarket, are more often than not, the most aggressive unpleasant customers, I have to deal with. It's like as their size grows, so does the amount of respect they believe society should give them! Fat people are rarely polite to me. When they ask where a product is, and I take them, its a truly unusual occurrence for them to smile and thank me.
Maybe if they put a little more effort into not being rude bastards, the effort it would be for some of them, may even burn enough calories to make them thin.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)