Shop monkey
Little Hitlers of the world unite! Though many people would consider being a supervisor (not even a manager) in a small convenience store at the age of 40 as evidence of a failed existence, they'd be wrong.

For they get to bollock young adults on a daily basis simultaneously allowing them to vent their frustrations at how inadequate they and their little life truly is. I don't mean to be needlessly vindictive in saying this but I once worked a till in a shop part-time to make ends meet so I could buy some food and beer. I didn't do it so I could be the butt of unwarranted abuse.

The specific answer I have for this question of the week is not the time I got shouted at but when my superviser did :D

I was the only person on the shop floor while my evil troll of a superviser was back in the office counting money/having a fag/scratching herself.

Cardinal rule #1: never leave the till when you're the only member of staff in the shop.

Customer comes in asking where the talcum powder is.

"Back of the store, up the ramp."

"Where aboots?"

"I'll show you."

The store is completely empty, no other customers around and the front door has a little buzzer so that if someone else comes in I'll be able to hear. I decide to leave the till and show the guy where the talc is.

"That middle shelf there."

At this moment the troll beast has decided to waddle out of her cave.

"You've left the till unguarded! Anyone could have come in here and... blah blah blah."

Now I'm not a moron, I know *why* we don't leave the till but I made a judgement call to be helpful to a customer when I thought the risk of theft was non-existant.

But for whatever reason, I now have to endure a shouting match explaining basic concepts to me which I've already heard before. She's well into the third minute of this when the customer comes to the till to purchase his item. The lecture continues apace with me completely unable to respond as I'm just a shop monkey and easily replaceable. Any subordination and I could be given the sack (or have my weekly hours reduced to 0).

The customer however is not a victim of this strict regime and addresses the hobgoblin thusly:

"What's a matter wi you ya miserable bitch? Your boy only showed me where ma fuckin' talc wiz. Did your man no' gie ya one this morn'?"

Her jaw drops and I bite my tongue trying not to laugh as I hand him his change.

"An' wan more thing. You shouldnie discipline him in front o' customers. Dae ye ken nothin' aboot running a store?"

:D

She turned beetroot red in embarrasment and immediately started to stack some magazines in silence out of my sight.

I carried on for the rest of my shift smiling on the inside in the glow of a small victory.
( djtrialprice, Fri 21 Sep 2007, 14:01, Reply)