What is it with slow as fuck, thick as shit, people?!

On Thursday, a man and his daughter came to my checkout, they PILED all their shopping on top of each other, in a mess, and clearly with lack of common sense, as they pushed things on and hold things here, there and everywhere, as slow as possible too.

"Would you like any help with your packing?" Dad waved his hand, not sure whether that's a yes or no, but due to my quality training in customer care, I took it as a no and let them get on with it.

He stood there, daydreaming, while the daughter stands there like "duhhh" and slowly, oh so slowly, begins packing each bag with her dad like its a massive effort.

The shopping amounted so high that I had no room to move, despite spanning quite slow and ignoring my "22 items per minute" rule. So, as I usually do, I began to open more bags and then continued to span another 6 items, before stopping and returning to bag opening.

But there's only so many 6 million bags you can open, before you get to the point there is so many bags, so much shopping and two of the slowest people in the world packing it.....I was loosing the will to live, so I stopped spanning...

...and they slowed down even more, to the point we were all nearly at a stand-still.

So I thought ah fuck it, away with this, and continued to scan the left over unscanned shopping.

"£193 then please." Of course the man slowly took his bank card, stared out the card machine like it was something from another planet, inserted his card and reach the point of payment AND THEN grumped, "can I pay £10 cash?" So of course the card was pulled out and the card transaction had to be cancelled to submit the cash first.

The card went though. "There's your receipt and off you pop," I thought.

Then his daughter and him just stood at the end of my checkout having a discussion in a foreign language and there's my next customers trying to get to the bagging area?!

Sometimes you just wana say, fuck off out my shop and don't come back.

Idiots, (no they didn't have anything wrong with them, they were just stupid people.) I'm sure his daughter is lovely and hopefully doesn't seen that as a role model type figure.

You are what you are - stupid witch.

TODAY I served an OLD lady, who's a regular to our store, I was polite and served her as I would any other customer.

At the end of the transaction and after taking her payment, I simply asked: "Are you collecting the vouchers for schools?" The voucher's the store issues to customers to donate to primary schools for equipment. The lady replied "Oh no, I'm not wasting my money on that" and then proceeded to make a 'hu' noise.

I said to her "Oh no they're free. Maybe you have a grandchild or know of somebody in school?" Zipping up the bag, she firmly replied "how DARE you speak to me like that!" as her hands started to shake, she went to turn away.

BAFFLED

I continued "I'm sorry?" The lady then came right up to my checkout screen, leaned over and said "Just because I look old doesn't mean that you can assume that I'm a grandmother, how DARE you!"

The lady turned and walked away and the face of myself and the customer behind was an identical picture.

I didn't know whether to laugh or remain speechless.

I looked at the customer, then back at the lady, then back to the customer and said "Would you like any help with your packing?"

The next lady replied "But she is old?!"

We live in the 21st century where people as young as 32 can be grandparents! How can she be so naive?!

I came home to tell my mum and she replied: "Seriously, that store needs bouncer's on its doors, I've never heard of anything like this."

They say today's youth's are the problem, no they are not.

Third customer on a Sunday, and you're a twat.

AN OLD man queued at my till at 10 o'clock last Sunday and with a face like thunder too.

When I came to serve him I asked if he would like any help with his packing and the usual friendly customer service.

Declining my offer, I began the transaction. I then asked my friend Angie what hours she was working that day, she answered me, and then I told the man how much his shopping had come to,as I held my hand out to receive his money.

The man viciously threw his £10 note in my hand and then when I came to look at his face, he looked as though he wanted I start a fight. I said thank you.

The man huffed, puffed and mumbled something using the word 'customers.'

It was obvious he had a problem with me, so I replied "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, YOU fucking heard me!"

Confused, I said, "actually, no I never which is why I asked you again."

"Well maybe you should WAKE UP THEN!" He replied.

Embarrassed for him and trying so hard to think of a come back I said "£2.49 change, there's your receipt and if you're got a problem with my service then there's a supervisor there for you to complain to."

The man replied: "What's the fucking point? They aren't any good either."

"Yeh, ok then. Can I help who's next please?"

The next customer said to me, what the hell was that all about?

My thought's exactly.

"I know I may look tired and look like shit with bags under my eyes, but asking a colleague one question doesn't affect my scanning rates.

Fuck off, you sad, old, lonely loser.

Proud

TWO SUNDAY's ago, at work, I surprised myself at how I reacted to some ill behaviour and right I was as well.

Ten minutes passed closing, I sat awaiting to take this last transaction , when I group-of-three customers came through my checkout.

The woman and two men, who didn't speak good English, came through the checkout with a few groceries and a bottle of wine. Reluctant to do so, I said to the customers "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask you all for I.D I'm afraid," despite one of them looking over the age of 25, it is the policy to I.D all taking put in the purchase.

The chap, who appeared to be packing and paying, began to look for his I.D. I asked the other two, who had ignored me the first time, "Sorry, do you not have any I.D?" The man, who did look old enough, and the woman continued to ignore me and glar at the pockets of their friend, who was still searching, no response again, so at this point I decided they were just damn right rude. "HELLO?" I said abruptly.

They all gave me the filthiest looks in the world but managed to translate the word's "just leave it," repeatedly, from their non-English speaking mouths.

I continued to scan their shopping and said "that's £18.40 then please."

The eldest one, who I didn't think was paying then threw a ten-pound note onto the checkout slope and then individually and purposefully threw 9 pound coins one after the other, despite having my hand out waiting to receive it.

FUCKING FURIOUS.

"You're not getting away with this" i thought.

I then counted 60 pence worth of 5 and 10 pence's of change, into my
hand, held it 5cm above the desk and let them all drop at once.

The twat then huffed and puffed at me, picked up all the pieces and then threw the last one back at me! At which, point I was walking away from the checkout.

I couldn't believe I had done it
but was very happy with this level of customer service, I see it as standing up for all supermarket workers.

We can all smile and give pleasant manners regardless of age, race and religion.

If you don't need a receipt, don't fucking ask for one!

Working at the petrol station and a man approaches the desk. "Pump number 3" he says, "and can I have a receipt?"

As I was processing his payment I printed a receipt and handed it to him.

He then asked "Can you take the points off this old receipt I have and put them on my points card?" "Yes, I'll do that right now" I said.

I put the points on the card and handed it to the man. "There you go, thank you."

"Can I have the VAT?" he said and I replied "For the petrol today, I've just given you that there."

"No! For those points, pointing at the old receipt I was about to bin."

Not often in the petrol station and not even trained to use the till, I said: "Oh sorry, when was it you bought the petrol?" assuming I would have to check the system for the receipt's VAT account and print a new receipt which he should have gotten when he purchased it originally. A thought completely off the top of my head, because I have common sense.

"It doesn't matter when I bought it does it?!" So baffled, I turned to the person I was working with and said "sorry?"

The person next to me checked the receipt and said that the VAT is shown on the bottom of the original receipt...

The man replied, "yeh, that's what I meant, dur" and raised his eyebrows at me!

Excuse me, Mr fat-bastard don't ask for a VAT receipt when you don't fucking need it. He could have simply asked "can I have my receipt back."

Rightly so, I should know these things, but training obviously isn't of high priority in this workplace.

A serious low point

TODAY marked a serious low moment in my supermarket life. I began serving customers at 9 o'clock and by 5 past 9 my checkout was closed by a supervisor who told me that I needed to shave.

The closed sign was placed at the end of my till and I had to ask a second time, "Sorry, where am I going?" my supervisor replied, "You're going to have a shave, the store manager has said."

Mortified

Recently, I've only been shaving once or twice a week, Sophie likes the look and I have been warming to it too. So I approached the supervisor's desk and asked if I was to go home? My supervisor replied, "no, just to the back," referring to the back of the store where the staff area is.

I wouldn't so much mind if I wasn't working in a store full of absolute tramps. Some of which haven't shaved for months on end, I imagine.

I then had to go to the personnel department, where there was no-one around to 'instruct' me, as I wasn't once asked with any respect, to shave. A member of personnel was called over the tanoy twice, and called via the phone, and asked to give me "something to shave my face." The stubble wasn't even that bad.

After being given a razor, I then had to stand in the men's toilet and shave with the cheap soap that I wouldn't wash my dog with, while others walked in and out. It was truly one of the lowest moments in my supermarket life.

A friend of mine said: "you took that completely laying down, didn't you?" as I'm usually known for standing up for myself and retaliating, which this time I didn't.

Another customer who heard about the incident said: "I think it's disgusting you were asked to shave, have they seen the state of them two working on the customer service desk right now, you're such a good worker."

Unfortuately, my face, shaven or unshaven, doesn't fit and I'm so f**king thankful it doesn't too.

I think I took this so well, because I've done all the anger and rage in the past and it only makes me feel worse. I'm starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel that, for me, supermarket life will soon be a distant memory.

When I returned to my till, after considering walking out of the overtime shift, I sat and wrote a list of all those within the shop that look a mess, including one woman, who has a good twenty, 2cm length, hairs growing from her chin. Will she have to shave too? I very much doubt it.

Filling a box of flipping fries, apparently.

Tonight, after swimming, I took myself along to a well known fast-food restaurant, you know the offical restaurant for this years big events.

I can only hope that other restaurants are giving their staff some sort of mc-course or a mc A-level in how to fill a box of fries correctly.

For the past three years of purchases at this said fast-food drive-thru, when I ask for large fries I am forever driving off with half a box, meaning that I have the inconvience of going in and simply saying, "Sorry, I asked for a large, would you mind refilling this please?"

So many times now, I have been patronised and been told, "They have probably fallen in the bottom of the bag." No they fucking haven't.

Tonight, once again, I asked for a large and I walked away from the counter with a medium sided box of fries. I said to the lady behind the counter, "Sorry, did you charge me for a large?" as I wondered if she charged me correctly. She said "Oh yes, I did sorry" and took the box of fries back to the fry-filling deput.

She then threw the box of fries back in for some other poor fool to eat and then took a large box and shuffled some other fries into the box, like shuffling a pack of cards.

The fries fell everwhere back into the fry counter and I was then given a large box with a medium amount of fries.

Where's the logic there? Honestly.