The Supermarket Cashier

I don’t mind having a chat with the butcher or the fishmonger, in fact I like talking about meat and fish, but I have this fixed idea that supermarket cashiers should just roll the goods through, take the dough, and leave it at that. And No, I don’t want a Nectar card.

And yet, some of them do try it on, don’t they. Take this lad today, tilling up in Waitrose.

Lad (with excessive enthusiasm): How are you today!
Me: (responding in kind; let’s meet this head on): Fine!!
Lad: (immediate dip in spirits): But what about the rain?
Me: It has to rain sometimes.
Lad: But it never seems to stop.
Me: Non-stop sunshine would be awful, do you want to live in Spain or something?
Lad (nervously): But what about the pot holes?
Me: Rain doesn’t cause pot holes. It’s the roadworks you want to worry about. Do you ride a bike?
Lad: I’m learning to drive (he looks about twelve and has sticky-up blond hair; I fancy giving him a clip round the ear.)


Lad: There’s this massive pothole up near a road junction near Heartsease*, I have to swerve right round it when I’m learning. It’s worse when the rain fills it in cos you can’t even see it.


Lad: Do you want any cashback?
Me: No thanks.
Lad: The roadworks will be worse in the summer when they have to fill all those potholes in.
Me: Thinks: Perhaps just take him out with a baguette?
Lad: D’you want a token?
Me: Yes.
Lad: Have a nice day then.
Me: [Pulls out Colt 45]

* Chell Heath for Norwich

This entry was posted in Are You With Me? and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to The Supermarket Cashier

  1. markelt says:

    Tescos in Warrington has a South African woman on the tills. Every SA woman I’ve ever met has been a gushing sack of unfiltered opinions and she is no exception so I always go to her till so she can do her running commentary on me and my shopping and tell me what shitbags her bosses and colleagues are.

  2. Ovookla says:

    Just come in from Waitrose, after a mind-numbingly boring conversation with a gay blonde 12 year old about the weather, which I ended tartly with ‘if you can’t accept a few changes in the weather don’t live in England’ so perhaps they’ve had a ‘talk to the customers’ campaign. What makes it worse was I was avoiding our South African cashier whom I’d complained about a few months ago when she demanded to know why I needed a bag packer and help to get to the car, and when I’d said feebly ‘It’s not the packing the bag it’s lifting them into the trolley,’ she’d snorted ‘Well!’ – eye-rolling to the rest of the queue’ ah suppose ah cud to that fer yew as well.’ So I’d said to the supervisor, on my way to get someone to lift the bags into the car and steer the trolley ‘If you need a medical certificate for all this help your advertising put it on the bloody poster and then it won’t cause confusion at the checkout.’ But actually I preferred the hairy-faced and strong South African snarly and feisty to us both avoiding each other with guilty looks. And I definitely preferred her to the excruciatingly pleasant gay 12 year old charged, one presumes, with cheering one up…

  3. Ovookla says:

    …and not only that, the 12 year old told me to put my coat collar up just as I was leaving, as he pointed out shivering ‘it’s really cold when you get water down your neck.’ and I’ve just noticed I’ve lost a sodding earring. Was that caring or bullying? And, why do I always do as I am bloody told? It’s a punishment for moaning at the supervisor. I know. Or shopping in shops I can’t afford on Mondays to get the weekend reductions.

  4. markelt says:

    So there’s something in the whole South African thing then? I’ve wondered whether it was just me.

  5. markelt says:

    Milgram is why we do what we’re told. Put somebody in a hat or a white coat, hi-vis vest or tabard and we’re putty.

  6. Ovookla says:

    Well it might be Milgram. Yet it’s an odd thing but I’m more likely to do the things someone I feel guilty about secretly swearing at tells me to do, than someone who I feel neither one way or the other about. It’s like those green discs they give you. The crisis of conscience those damn things give me. I now know I can’t read which charity I’m voting for or I’ll end up wanting to go and buy something else so I can get another token and rectify matters. Well no I won’t, but who wants to finish shopping on a moral dilemma. I’ve had enough of that nonsense on the way round. Happy chickens or tortured chickens? Cucumbers which destroy the environment or British farming? Line caught halibut or dredged halibut. FFS give me a break when I’m nearly out of the shop…

  7. Nick King says:

    I’ve got a Hi-Vis vest, but I think the putty in the shed may have gone off.

    I hate the people in our local Co-op, I don’t know what selection process they use but it must require staff to have no idea on how to operate the till and that when it goes wrong all the staff in the store (and possibly some from other Co-op’s) all have to gather around the one till offering the wrong advice, whilst I’m standing in the queue getting frostbite in my fingers from 2ltr bottle of full fat pasteurised that might well be past its sell by date by the time the useless gaggle of twats decide to start serving the hordes that are in the mahoosive queue that by this time is snaking around the aisles.


    Angry of Angley

  8. Stephen Foster says:

    But what about the weather though?

  9. Stephen Foster says:

    I always put the green token into the dog charity.

    However, there isn’t one at the moment: In Waitrose, Eaton, suburb of Norwich (essentially one vast OAP ghetto) Prostate Cancer is out-discing the other two by about ten to one : )

  10. OS says:


    I dunno about Milgram… this fred is a bit like Spike Milligan. Or the Two Ronnies.

    🙂 🙂 🙂

  11. OS says:

    Nick… Angry of Angley

    Hahahahhaha. Better stuff than you get on the ‘Cake’ these days. 😉

  12. Ovookla says:

    A baby sardine saw his first submarine
    He was scared and looked through a peephole,
    ‘Oh come come come’ said the sardine’s mum,
    ‘It’s only a tin full of people.’

    Somehow I don’t think Spike would have had any trouble at all with Milgram or supermarkets.
    Our Co-op staff (ex-Somerfield) are all wearing black uniforms, they look like the SS with dandruff. Is that a national look?

  13. markelt says:

    Oi Nick

    The bakers in the village employs a vast number of middle aged and aging women. The youngest of them serves the queue which is out into the street while the rest potter*. All the bakers I’ve ever been in – plus Greggs – stick to this rule.

    *Potter = looking like you might be doing something but nobody else is quite sure what it is. Like John McGovern.

  14. Daftburger says:

    The Wright’s pie shops round here have all had a revamp, not the one in Stoke town centre obviously, and there are loads of lovely ladies serving and no pottering. Pottering is a dying (dead) art round here 😦 (bdum tish).

    There are still ques round the corner but they are the best aint they!

Comments are closed.