Classic distraction technique
My first part-time job was at that bastion of British culture, Woolworths.

Initially my job was to work in the upstairs warehouse wearing the prescribed tight navy blue trousers, cream shirt and blue tie that looked like it had been made from carpet. The warehouse itself was virtually pitch-black, so in between the fumbling around I would occasionally sweep the floor and move the odd cage.

One Saturday the store manager asked me to cover for the woman who usually ran the kids clothing department. This basically meant walking around a specific section of the shop floor, being helpful to customers and ensuring the stock levels remained high. On the latter point, I should only ever call for another member of staff to get stock from the warehouse, and certainly never leave the department unmanned. No problem I think.

The first couple of hours were uneventful and crushingly boring and I wished I was back in the warehouse. Just when I was about to lose the will to live, a tall and very attractive woman comes flouncing up to me and with a very heavy french accent asks if I can help. It quickly becomes apparent that she has just used up the extent of her english vocabulary, so breaking out my GCSE french, I proceed to spend the next hour helping her choose a coat for her niece. I'm feeling pretty chuffed with myself for going above and beyond the call of duty, and think nothing of it when she asks me to give her detailed directions to the station at the other end of town. I even go as far as drawing a small map on a piece of cardboard for her to follow.

When she leaves the shop, I decide to check stock levels and see if I need to get any more down. There are rows and rows of empty rails which just over an hour ago were filled with kids dresses, coats and posh outfits. I knew something was amiss but was far too embarrassed to raise the alarm, so I acted as though nothing was wrong and just requested more stock. My heart was beating relentlessly when the store manager called me to his office at the end of day to explain we'd be robbed earlier by a professional gang. I claimed ignorance and didn't mention the french lady. Amazingly they put me on the same department the following week, but I had company. The most blindingly obvious store detective in the world.
(BinDipper, Wed 16 May 2012, 16:29, 1 reply)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=yy2p9kNnnyg
( BrokenCoccyx doesn't mind if you grope on, Wed 16 May 2012, 18:50, closed)