I doss around the shop. Orange juice, apples, bread, that will be all. I queue to pay and the manager is on the till.
In his 40s, bleeping and checking and throwing bags at the customers. I've observed his rudeness before, he's served me on occasion, he serves me now and I curse quietly on the approach.
"Do you have any Kinder eggs?"
"WHAT?"
Oh. So it's going to be like that.
"Do you have any Kinder eggs?"
"There. Just THERE!"
He points to the Cadbury's Creme Eggs.
"No. I'm sorry, Kinder eggs," and I curse myself for the small apology in my voice.
"Just THERE! LOOK!"
"WHERE?" Losing it.
He reaches through the divide and picks up a Cadbury's Creme Egg. "Are you blind?"
I think a minute. I look him in the eye. I don't lose my way.
"I don't want a (fucking) Creme Egg, I want a Kinder Egg. The one with the toy inside."
He speaks to his colleague.
"We don't sell them."
He goes back to totting up my groceries, I add a different confectionary.
No please. No thank you. Just the miserable churning of a seismic cunt.
"5.55." he says.
"Happy in your work?" I say.
"Next!" he says.
I quiet out the door, just met by my new nemesis.
16 comments:
Tell me where.
I'll go there first thing with a mouthful of gobstoppers and ask him repeatedly for wedgesandsausages and oh! will I visit some anger upon him.
Spar. Cabra Road. And shush!
I wish to do the same as Terence.
I hate pricks like that. The prick. Hopefully karma will kick in at some point and he'll trip over a kinder egg and some bad shit will happen. Or something like that. The prick.
Oh be kind. He's in his forties and he's bagging groceries. Being crabby to customers who only spend five quid is all he's got in his miserable, craptastic littel life.
oh he is fucked, I am going to send such a handful of copper style change and miscounts and fumblings and pointless questions that a stroke will surely be forthcoming.
I think you need to go on the offensive, try "THIS IS SPAR, TA!"
Meadow - Appreciated.
NaRocRoc - He wasn't brung up proper.
Kath - Probably the reason I kept my cool. Understandable as a once off, anyone can have a bad day, but he's always a prick. Sorry but no excuse.
Red - That'll learn him.
Conan - One of many viable options.
Hold up now everybody, let's slow down. I mean, can't we see it from the shopkeeper's point of view too?
You get Radge, swanning in like something out of Saturday Night Fever, demanding the exact kind of confectionery egg that the shop don't sell?
It's rare that I liken anybody to a hybrid of Hitler and Stalin, but Radge, you're coming mighty close.
Flann - Sweet! That's exactly the kind of gravitas I've been aiming for.
Terrence, since I can't arrive in person, can I send a list with you? :)
Yes, everyone has a bad day. But even on those kinds of days I manage to be nice to people...and avoid those I know I can't be trusted to be civil to.
I'd be over that counter like a smack addict.
Hope - It's the best policy.
Holemaster - Nice vigilanteism. Vigilantism? Oh who cares.
Radge, kinder egg?
You should make a list of a couple of dozen items they dont stock, stand dead staright in front of him and slowly ask for each one, with a slight smirk for effect.
Ovak - I need to start writing these suggestions down.
Just roll up to him pretending to drive a car.
Pretend to roll down your window and ask for an snackbox with a Fanta.
Make sure you 'bip' your horn when you drive off.
Cheers for swinging by.
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