do.’
I hang up and turn to the customer, attempting to smile.
‘Sorry, but my supervisor is already busy with a customer. She can’t come and talk to you.’
The customer goes very red. He starts shouting (so that everyone can enjoy the situation, how generous of him) and gesticulating. Although I try to remain unruffled, I also end up raising my voice because by now I’ve had enough.
We are apparently here to serve.
We have to show them respect.
But being shouted at for something you can’t change and you can’t control, no …
Suddenly we are into a nice argument. He shouts. So do I. He yells. Customers covertly approach so they don’t miss anything. A show – how exciting! … Well, it’s not every day that you hear a checkout girl and a customer arguing at full pitch!
Our ‘discussion’ is doomed to failure though, since neither of us will give in. After several unpleasant minutes (shouting is fun in a football stadium but not so much at the till) I notice an aisle supervisor out of the corner of my eye. What luck! Given the noise, he must have heard. He’ll definitely come over and calm things down. But my hope is short-lived. He acts as if nothing has happened and changes aisle …
The customer finally gets out his bank card. With an abrupt gesture he flings it at me. It falls on the floor. That makes me even more annoyed but I pick up his card, give it to him and say calmly, ‘Sir, I refuse to serve you. You’ve gone too far and I won’t be treated like that!’
‘…’
The argument ends abruptly. The man apologises, pays for his vouchers and leaves.
Ten minutes later one of the girls from the Office finally arrives. She has come to see whether I have been able to handle the argument. I describe the brawl and she tells me, ‘Go and take your break. Someone will replace you.’
Do you need the support of a superior? The number you have rung is not available .
Are you sure that you are handling a situation properly? Careful, you are only a checkout girl .
Do you want to serve people? I repeat, you are only a checkout girl .
And the moral of the story? A few days later the rules are changed. You can now pay by cheque. OK, it’s not exactly a moral but why should there be one?
THE BIG CHRISTMAS RUSH
Ah, Christmas! A period of festivity and sharing? Frankly for you, dear checkout girl, 24 December involves exactly the same stress as the first day of the sales. It’s all about quick execution, increased scanning, big crowds, grumbling customers, empty aisles, compulsive shopping, even more impatience than usual …
Welcome to the spirit of Christmas! I know, it’s horrible but if you really want to enjoy the season to be jolly, avoid this job.
24 December, morning. The same old story. War has just broken out and the zombies are attacking. Customers are buzzing like flies in front of the store doors (which open at 8.30 instead of 9 a.m., an important distinction).
With the same fear of missing out, they leap not on the technology and clothes aisles but the fish/meat/dessert aisles. They’re stocking up for the big blow-out tomorrow. But you will feel the same aggressive atmosphere as at sale time. Perhaps it’s a foretaste of the dyspepsia to come.
‘It’s a shame we can’t serve ourselves. We’d have the turkey, sausages, smoked salmon, bacon, beef and Christmas pudding in the trolley already and we wouldn’t have to yell at the idiot who pushed in front!’
From 9.15 a.m. onwards the same generalised chaos reigns in the aisles as at sale time. The sales assistants are on the verge of a nervous breakdown the same as at sale time. Not for the same reasons, it’s true. This time it’s because some customers can’t understand why the most popular toy of the moment might be out of stock on Christmas Eve and kick up a fuss (thirty-six of them simultaneously). Others only want to give big gifts (nice ones!) but for less than £5. Others still don’t
I hang up and turn to the customer, attempting to smile.
‘Sorry, but my supervisor is already busy with a customer. She can’t come and talk to you.’
The customer goes very red. He starts shouting (so that everyone can enjoy the situation, how generous of him) and gesticulating. Although I try to remain unruffled, I also end up raising my voice because by now I’ve had enough.
We are apparently here to serve.
We have to show them respect.
But being shouted at for something you can’t change and you can’t control, no …
Suddenly we are into a nice argument. He shouts. So do I. He yells. Customers covertly approach so they don’t miss anything. A show – how exciting! … Well, it’s not every day that you hear a checkout girl and a customer arguing at full pitch!
Our ‘discussion’ is doomed to failure though, since neither of us will give in. After several unpleasant minutes (shouting is fun in a football stadium but not so much at the till) I notice an aisle supervisor out of the corner of my eye. What luck! Given the noise, he must have heard. He’ll definitely come over and calm things down. But my hope is short-lived. He acts as if nothing has happened and changes aisle …
The customer finally gets out his bank card. With an abrupt gesture he flings it at me. It falls on the floor. That makes me even more annoyed but I pick up his card, give it to him and say calmly, ‘Sir, I refuse to serve you. You’ve gone too far and I won’t be treated like that!’
‘…’
The argument ends abruptly. The man apologises, pays for his vouchers and leaves.
Ten minutes later one of the girls from the Office finally arrives. She has come to see whether I have been able to handle the argument. I describe the brawl and she tells me, ‘Go and take your break. Someone will replace you.’
Do you need the support of a superior? The number you have rung is not available .
Are you sure that you are handling a situation properly? Careful, you are only a checkout girl .
Do you want to serve people? I repeat, you are only a checkout girl .
And the moral of the story? A few days later the rules are changed. You can now pay by cheque. OK, it’s not exactly a moral but why should there be one?
THE BIG CHRISTMAS RUSH
Ah, Christmas! A period of festivity and sharing? Frankly for you, dear checkout girl, 24 December involves exactly the same stress as the first day of the sales. It’s all about quick execution, increased scanning, big crowds, grumbling customers, empty aisles, compulsive shopping, even more impatience than usual …
Welcome to the spirit of Christmas! I know, it’s horrible but if you really want to enjoy the season to be jolly, avoid this job.
24 December, morning. The same old story. War has just broken out and the zombies are attacking. Customers are buzzing like flies in front of the store doors (which open at 8.30 instead of 9 a.m., an important distinction).
With the same fear of missing out, they leap not on the technology and clothes aisles but the fish/meat/dessert aisles. They’re stocking up for the big blow-out tomorrow. But you will feel the same aggressive atmosphere as at sale time. Perhaps it’s a foretaste of the dyspepsia to come.
‘It’s a shame we can’t serve ourselves. We’d have the turkey, sausages, smoked salmon, bacon, beef and Christmas pudding in the trolley already and we wouldn’t have to yell at the idiot who pushed in front!’
From 9.15 a.m. onwards the same generalised chaos reigns in the aisles as at sale time. The sales assistants are on the verge of a nervous breakdown the same as at sale time. Not for the same reasons, it’s true. This time it’s because some customers can’t understand why the most popular toy of the moment might be out of stock on Christmas Eve and kick up a fuss (thirty-six of them simultaneously). Others only want to give big gifts (nice ones!) but for less than £5. Others still don’t
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