Dear customer, it’s come to my attention that you may be having trouble identifying who the retail workers are when you visit a store. If you find that you have to approach every person you meet with questions like “do you work here?” then this guide is for you. So buckle up and let’s jump right in.
It’s that wonderful time of year again when we have to count EVERY friggin item in the store. Honestly man, it drives me insane. I just love sitting on my ass counting batteries and pet food for 12 hours while management stands around watching me. The worst part about inventory is that it’s fake.
Yes, Mr Customer, I see you tentatively placing the johnnies and anusol on my checkout. It doesn’t matter if you hide them under the tangerines, I’m gonna see them eventually because I have to scan them. Do you even realise how many of these (and similar) items I have to scan each day? I honestly don’t care. I’m not gonna go home and contemplate whether you are getting your willy wet with your condoms or if you’re pooping in fear.
Ever had one of those customers who think you’re best buds now because you happened to ask them how they are? What happened to answering with a simple “I’m fine”? Here I am, 15 minutes later hearing about ALLLL the issues he’s having with his car. Meanwhile, my manager is eyeballing me from the end of aisle 10 with a look that could kill.
I used to love kids. In an entirely legal kind of way might I add.
But after 5 years of listening to the snotty faced little cretins down my aisles, I’m done. My main issue is that the fact that this is a workplace as well as a place to shop. Sure, you have to bring your fuck trophy with you, because you can’t afford childcare on your McDonalds wages. (Yes, I consider retail work to be one step higher in the pecking order to flipping burgers, and what). But you could at least try to control your precious little bundle of joy/poop.
This isn’t aimed at parents that have no choice. Some single parents can’t afford childcare and some haven’t got a decent support structure around them. I get it. I’m talking about those families that treat their weekly grocery shop like a family day out. You’ve got Mum and Dad in deep conversation over why Dad has been spending a lot of time with Kerry from work (naughty Dad!). Meanwhile, little Jade and Aarron are running around the store causing mayhem.
I’m not asking for much. Just pop your items onto my checkout and be willing to answer my simple yet necessary questions, such as “Do you need a bag?” or “Do you have a More Card?”. Believe it or not, but it makes it very difficult for me to ask these questions if you’re yapping into your phone and ignoring me. It’s not even as if you’re having a life and death conversation, you’re telling your mate what happened on The Apprentice last night. Cheers for spoiling the episode by the way. I hope your card gets declined.
I’m not being funny, but if you are walking slower than a wounded sloth, then you either need to get out of the store or order online. I’m honestly not trying to be mean, but slow-moving people drive me insane. It’s not like I’m whizzing around like Usain Bolt, but I do have a job to do and I’m not really given a fair amount of time to do it.