As is the norm for the likes of me, I do a weekly big shop at a local supermarket. Depending on my mood, I either go to Tesco's (quick and cheap but the key protagonists are lazy-eyed poorly-cleansed genetic mishaps) or Asda (quick and cheap but full of people deemed "too council" for Jeremy Kyle) and fill up on all manner of own-brand fayre, all in the name of not dying.
Given the ongoing treacherous weather conditions we're currently facing, I found Asda to be surprisingly empty. I flew round the store without needing to utter a single profanity towards a member of the moronic underclass who thinks it's acceptable to leave their trolley straddling a lane while they piss off to find the Chicken Dippers. Having gathered my wares, I made my way to the tills and wandered straight into a free aisle, beginning to unload my stuff.
Alas, I was unaware that I wasn't supposed to disturb the staff by wanting to actually buy something.
Given the lack of customers, both the till I was at and the adjacent one were customer free (apart from me, obviously). Thinking this was a boon, my mood dropped slightly when I realised that not only did the two cashiers intend on holding a conversation throughout my entire transaction, but that they would also carry it out across me, as if I'd had the ignorant audacity to get in their way.
The rigmarole is standard; they say hello, offer you some carrier bags (go on then), offer to help pack (no ta), scan your stuff, give you the total, ask if you want cash back (no ta), you pay and you fuck off. However, given the in-depth nature of the feckless conversation these two imbeciles were engrossed in, I found myself practically offering her lines, as if we were both players in a stage production of "Asda: The Musical!", and she was struggling with the script. Admittedly the whole process took the usual couple of minutes, but the whole thing could've been a lot quicker if she's said "Hold on a minute, Trace" and actually concentrated on the job in hand.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not usually arsed about a lack of customer service. At the end of the day I got what I wanted so I'm not too fussed. If I was queuing unnecessarily while they wittered on it might be different, but is it too much to ask that they shut up for two minutes and pay attention? Both before and after my presence there was a distinct lack of other customers, so it wouldn't have killed them. I tried to make my presence felt by making honking noises while gesturing at her breasts*, but she was having none of it.
So beware, potential shoppers. Don't make the same mistake I did and disturb two granite-faced battleaxes in full conversational flow. Put your stuff back in your basket and piss off out of it until they're ready to serve you. Who do you think you are?
* Not really. That would be ridiculous. It was more of a toot than a honk.
No comments:
Post a Comment