Reduced to clear
I worked for Britain's largest supermarket for a good 3 years of my life, as a part-timer no less, so I really got my share of shitty jobs, shitty bosses and shitty customers.

After being there a few months I was granted the power of handling all the reduced to clear pricing. I'd fix sarnies for 10p for my mates and generally abuse my responsibilities to the point where I sold 10 quids worth of high-end cakes and eclairs (to myself) for 50p. Generally it was a tasty job that provided a good source of backhander income, including reducing 40 crates of Carling to a quid each because someone out back "forgot" about them for a year. I split the bill with my mate and sold them for a tidy 700% markup. Alas, I digress...

The problem with working in a discounted section is the zombie influx of bargain hunters that emerge when darkness falls. They tend to be the mothers with 14 identical children tied to their trolleys, no knowledge of English or culture and a bigger budget for fags than food who would argue for England or whatever country they claim to be from for 5p off a ready meal.

Normally I'd oblige if the date was running out or it looked a bit scuffed, until I met the pikiest of pikey scum who decided he wanted some knock-off yoghurts. Yoghurts, if you don't know, could survive a nuclear apocolypse in terms of their sell by date. They also tend to be flimsily put together. Regardless to say, I wasn't having any of his begging and turned him down for a reduction.

In a moment of 'genius' in order to get his discount, he decides to take the damaged route by throwing his multipack of Muller yoghurt onto the floor, which promptly exploded over feet and clothes. Oblivious to how foolish he looked, he forged the smuggest self-satisfying grin ever recorded.

"It's now damaged," says he. "You better cut the price down. Plus my clothes are ruined thanks to you. I want some replacement ones".

"Okay then," say I. "I'll go get a cleaner to help get this tidied up and be with you again in a minute."

I went home. He apparently kicked off and got escorted out by security 10 minutes later when he realised he was standing in the middle of a crowded supermarket covered in cherry syrup and vanilla bellowing that he wanted free clothes.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Thu 4 Sep 2008, 17:29, 4 replies)

Yoghurt conflict
I wish I had seen that, especially his smug grin.
Not above getting bargains from the reduded section myself and have got many a cheap "finest" sandwich. The droll creatures who bulk buy (usually ladies who don't look as if they need the pennies) to the dozen annoy me. Who needs 10 salads in one night?!
(muzzvsworld, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 4:09, closed)

Awesome!
*click*
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 6:54, closed)

that's my current job!
It's boring as fuck, no?
(europe-who, Sat 6 Sep 2008, 0:09, closed)

Dirty pikey bastard.
You should have just smashed the cunt in the face with a frozen fowl.

Turkey, chicken, duck, any would have worked, so long as his neo-neanderthal features no longer resemble those he was used to.

Fucker.
(HomeWithTheDownies A towering inferno of penisy pleasure, Sat 6 Sep 2008, 3:36, closed)