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Supermarket Soap
The daily life of a 24 hour petrol station cashier on the night shift
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I am TSM (The Store Manager) and I am a shelf stacker
and blogger from The New Forest, England

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17th January 2009: Working With Miss C, Dead Night, The Troll, Random Customers and Yes, Of Course I Can Steal Your Identity - Would You Like A Bag With That?
Streaming Song Of The Day: The Script - We Cry (with lyrics!)

Free MP3s Of The Day:
Royce Da 5'9" - Part Of Me (not safe for work)
Royce Da 5'9" - Shake This (not safe for work)

So, tonight Miss C and I are working together.  Alone.  Not good.  She never shuts up!  And encourages me to talk.  Anyway, tonight she has been bugging me over the location of this blog.  She wants to know the goss while she is away on materinity leave.  I've told her no.  Thing is, I love writing this thing anonymously.  As I said to her, I could write "...and I hate them all, I hope they all fall over on broken glass in the car park in the morning" and there is no way to trace it back to me.  Far less when we are Co-op.  More stores, more scenarios, more probability that similar things could happen in similar stores. 

As for the night.  It has been dead.  Properly dead.  We've had maybe 20 customers and it's now 1am.  Right now I am sitting in the canteen, almost through my first packet of 50p Jaffa Cakes (brand name, not own brand!) and have gloriously not done a vast amount.  I'll make it up tomorrow as I am now, inevitably, going to miss my Linux meeting (damnit).

We also had problems with The Troll.  This guy just has no concept of...well...anything!  He keeps wandering around, claiming that his partner is a director of the co-op.  Shame that apparently she seems to know nothing about anything.  He claims she said that the sale has already happened.  Wrong.  He claims that the other stores have been sold.  Wrong.  As I said to The Old Man, it's not hard to see that his partner's position at Co-op is actually BS.

Plus we had the usual Friday random customers.  Like a kid who thought that dressing in a nice shirt, nice trousers and very nice jacket could be finished off with...a hoodie.  The hoodie was under the shirt, and the hood was pulled up.  He looked like some kind of dapper monk. 

Then there was a guy who asked Miss C if, whilst serving him, whether she could check the balance on his debit card.  Yes, of course we can do that.  I mean, we already steal your details and PIN numbers, why not check your balance too?  Some people's understandings of just what access we have over bank stuff astounds me.  As I said to Miss C, my reply would have been "No, but...wow...damn...we can see how many times you've been overdrawn this month.  Ouch."
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