Keyser here just reminded me...
...that I worked in Morrissons for a spell too when I was 15ish.

Piss-poor wages, worse working conditions and yes too, an Assistant Manager who was one of the most small-minded, up-his-own-arse wankers I had ever met, oh-so-proud of the fact that he had scraped his way up to lording it over 2-dozen or so herberts like me who all thought he was a prick. I found out from my then-girlfriend that he'd made a move on her a few months before at someone's xmas party - she was 14 and he was something like 24 FFS. Kiddy-fiddling fucker. That said, the GF could scrub up well and was a bit of a bunny ;)

I lasted for about three months until the aforementioned tosspot bollocked me for losing a label gun that I hadn't lost at all, accepting no explanation other than that he'd made up in his own itsy bitsy mind. I gave up trying to explain and just walked away from him. 'Walk away when I'm talking to you and you needn't come back!', he said to my back, so I took off my fetching navy-blue overcoat and chucked it into the overhead lights on my way out.

EDIT - looking at this post and my others for this Q, I think it's becoming clear that vocational injustices tend to bring out the petulant git in me - already deleted one because it was just too nasty, and not especially relevant :)
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Mon 20 Feb 2006, 14:55, Reply)