lightest with the bar codes facing the scanner (wow!), the conveyor belt will be touched and let out a sweet purr. And everything will run smoothly.
Sometimes, however, the conveyor belt will let you down entirely – whether the customer is nice or not. It will change sides and support the customer. It will advance without stopping and unload all the items like a dumper truck. Impossible to stop it because it will do it so zealously that your only recourse will be the emergency stop button (the big red button which only works every so often). The items will be damaged and so will you. And don’t forget that the customer will hold you entirely responsible (well, of course!). You can settle the score with these ungrateful conveyor belts at the end of the day with the bleach cleaner (every small victory counts) …
You might also come across one which, fed up with turning for years and years, will stop for ever with a long and final rattle. A heart-rending cry will indicate that your friend has left you, letting you down in front of a tidal wave of products and customers who think the belt has only malfunctioned. They will cry, ‘This always happens to me!’ and push their items along with their hand, grousing and shouting at you because, of course, you are responsible for their misfortune. The conveyor belt will remain immobile though. Immovable. Inert.
You think I’m exaggerating? Just wait. In the end, some days your solitude and powerlessness in the face ofdisagreeable customers will be so great that the least relief, even a malfunctioning or capricious conveyor belt, will be welcome.
So, in the evening clean it with love and when you arrive in the morning give it a little pat. It will love you. And who knows, maybe one day it will eat a customer or the petulant section manager.
HOW TO HIDE YOUR FORTUNE
You will sometimes come across customers whose physique is the stuff of fantasy. And you will be surprised to find that you are imagining them naked, dreaming that you are massaging their feet (or possibly other parts of their anatomy). And then there will be others who you’d rather not think about but who will be generous enough to let you enjoy a glimpse of some very appetising parts of their body. They all have something in common: a terrible fear of being robbed, which makes them hide their cash somewhere warm about their person. Average age: any (there are paranoid people everywhere).
When the time comes to pay you will be lucky enough to get a close-up view of:
Mrs Jones’s ample, flaccid bosom and her grey bra (it must have been white once) where she has hidden her banknotes. All accompanied by a puff of eau de cologne or sherry (difficult to tell).
Mr Smith’s scrawny foot and holey sock where he hides his £50 notes. Drawback: an easily identifiable odour. Oh actually, maybe that’s from the smelly cheese he’s bought.
Mr Thomas’s rounded stomach. His little arms always find it very difficult to reach underneath his jumper to his shirt where he has hidden his money. And you can smell that he didn’t have time to take a shower today (or yesterday apparently).
You can’t see anything but you can hear Mrs Rogers: ‘Wait, I don’t have enough money, I’ll just nip to the loo.’ And when you see her a few minutes later, triumphant, with her notes in her hand you refrain from imagining anything. You are just happy to take the money from her fingertips.
Yes, yes, I know: you can’t be fussy about where your money comes from. Especially when you’re a checkout girl.
IâM PAYING
Paying for your shopping â an obligation that customers would avoid if they could. But, as you will have found out, customers make the checkout girl pay every day, each in their own way. Sometimes, you even start to ask yourself whether perhaps you are robbing the customers, given the black looks and insults they throw at you. So you might be surprised to learn that some actually fight to pay. Yes, you read
Sometimes, however, the conveyor belt will let you down entirely – whether the customer is nice or not. It will change sides and support the customer. It will advance without stopping and unload all the items like a dumper truck. Impossible to stop it because it will do it so zealously that your only recourse will be the emergency stop button (the big red button which only works every so often). The items will be damaged and so will you. And don’t forget that the customer will hold you entirely responsible (well, of course!). You can settle the score with these ungrateful conveyor belts at the end of the day with the bleach cleaner (every small victory counts) …
You might also come across one which, fed up with turning for years and years, will stop for ever with a long and final rattle. A heart-rending cry will indicate that your friend has left you, letting you down in front of a tidal wave of products and customers who think the belt has only malfunctioned. They will cry, ‘This always happens to me!’ and push their items along with their hand, grousing and shouting at you because, of course, you are responsible for their misfortune. The conveyor belt will remain immobile though. Immovable. Inert.
You think I’m exaggerating? Just wait. In the end, some days your solitude and powerlessness in the face ofdisagreeable customers will be so great that the least relief, even a malfunctioning or capricious conveyor belt, will be welcome.
So, in the evening clean it with love and when you arrive in the morning give it a little pat. It will love you. And who knows, maybe one day it will eat a customer or the petulant section manager.
HOW TO HIDE YOUR FORTUNE
You will sometimes come across customers whose physique is the stuff of fantasy. And you will be surprised to find that you are imagining them naked, dreaming that you are massaging their feet (or possibly other parts of their anatomy). And then there will be others who you’d rather not think about but who will be generous enough to let you enjoy a glimpse of some very appetising parts of their body. They all have something in common: a terrible fear of being robbed, which makes them hide their cash somewhere warm about their person. Average age: any (there are paranoid people everywhere).
When the time comes to pay you will be lucky enough to get a close-up view of:
Mrs Jones’s ample, flaccid bosom and her grey bra (it must have been white once) where she has hidden her banknotes. All accompanied by a puff of eau de cologne or sherry (difficult to tell).
Mr Smith’s scrawny foot and holey sock where he hides his £50 notes. Drawback: an easily identifiable odour. Oh actually, maybe that’s from the smelly cheese he’s bought.
Mr Thomas’s rounded stomach. His little arms always find it very difficult to reach underneath his jumper to his shirt where he has hidden his money. And you can smell that he didn’t have time to take a shower today (or yesterday apparently).
You can’t see anything but you can hear Mrs Rogers: ‘Wait, I don’t have enough money, I’ll just nip to the loo.’ And when you see her a few minutes later, triumphant, with her notes in her hand you refrain from imagining anything. You are just happy to take the money from her fingertips.
Yes, yes, I know: you can’t be fussy about where your money comes from. Especially when you’re a checkout girl.
IâM PAYING
Paying for your shopping â an obligation that customers would avoid if they could. But, as you will have found out, customers make the checkout girl pay every day, each in their own way. Sometimes, you even start to ask yourself whether perhaps you are robbing the customers, given the black looks and insults they throw at you. So you might be surprised to learn that some actually fight to pay. Yes, you read
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