I know how entertained some of you are by the aggravation that I seem to attract when I visit supermarkets, so here is another little gem to cheer you up:
As I was in town the other day I thought I’d nip into Morrison’s as I needed to pick up a couple of gift card and Morrison’s was the nearest stockist. Whilst there, I popped a few other bits in my basket, including the DVD of ‘Encanto’ which I haven’t yet seen and I am curious as to why they don’t talk about Bruno.
Small basket of goods in hand, then, I headed towards a staffed checkout. Usually, I would go to the self-service checkouts because I don’t mind using them and they have the added advantage of enabling me to avoid crabby checkout assistants. Morrison checkout staff need to take a leaf out of Aldi’s book. Aldi checkout staff are invariably cheerful and that is why I mostly shop there now. That, and the cheaper prices.
Anyway, I was happy to stand in a very small queue because of the activating of the gift cards malarkey. However, a small, elderly and clearly powered by Duracell batteries assistant thought otherwise and shunted me over to the self-service checkouts under the incorrect assumption that I didn’t know how to use them and she, aged 93 and a half if she was a day, would show me how.
‘I’m au fait with how to use a self-checkout, thank you,’ said I. ‘Only I’m buying a DVD and two gifts cards and would rather use the staffed checkouts.’
‘Oh, they’ll go through the self-checkouts just fine,’ said the assistant. ‘Put your heavier stuff through first, and the gift cards last. They’re light and they might not register. I’ll hang around and make sure they go through.’
I did a little inward sigh and set about putting through my items. All fine, until the first gift card. It scanned, it activated, I dropped it in my shopping bag.
‘Please place your item in the bagging area,’ said the machine. As predicted, it didn’t register that I HAD put the item in the bagging area. I looked around for my fairy godmother assistant, expecting her to leap in and help.
Reader, she had vanished. Cleared off. Nowhere to be seen. Pouff!
I removed the gift card from the bagging area and tried throwing it violently back into the bag. Nope. I tried taking out the DVD and throwing THAT back in the bag. Nope. The machine’s voice was telling me over and over again to ‘put the item in the bagging area,’ and I wasn’t shy in telling it in a firm voice of high volume that ‘I HAVE put it in your STUPID bagging area, you STUPID machine.’
I stood around, waiting for someone to come and sort out a problem that shouldn’t have been. I got to the point where I was going to pile all my bits back in my basket and return to a staffed checkout which, if I hadn’t been so meek and agreeable to being moved, because I was taught to respect my elders and definitely NOT argue with them, I would have been through by now and probably half way home.
Just at that point, another shop assistant looked in my direction and I caught her eye. I wished I hadn’t. I should have thrown it back. ‘Miserable’, ‘sour’, ‘sullen’ and ‘ungracious’ are the adjectives that flashed through my mind as I watched her stab at the checkout keypad with considerable venom, and then do it again because I had a second gift card to put through which, again, the machine refused to believe I had put into the bagging area.
‘Thank you!!’ I said, brightly, cheerfully, graciously (adjectives to describe me), and she gave a bit of sneer and walked off without saying a word. Seriously, if you got caught up in a fight in a pub, you’d want her on your side. But I suspect she isn’t on anyone’s side except her own.
I wondered, as I fled Morrison’s (and feeling the very strong urge to get home and clean my aura as soon as possible) if she’d been on the receiving end of many customer complaints. I bet she has. And I bet the management are too scared to sack her.
There you go, Shopping Aggravation Fans. You’re welcome!
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KJ