Stuck Indoors

 

I have been stuck indoors for days this not for an eagerness to hear the words of Boris Johnson on the news nor for fear of ISIS terrorists, if only the 'Tube' came this far out!  None of these things have moved me much and instead I have merely loitered here unless the desire to feed my fat face moved me elsewhere, elsewhere being Tesco or Sainsburys.  Those places, and one other now found in this town, offered me a glimpse of the creatures that have recently left school and a re pursuing a career in supermarket rip-offs.  One featured a disinterested gayboy who will not see out the month as he clearly finds work in the real work not to his liking.  It appears school has not taught him about reality and while one or two others who joined alongside him are making the most of things this one will not last.  The newer shop, B&M has in the few occasions I have been in been staffed by incompetents and wee girls with an attitude suitable for a poor soap opera, it is however unsuitable for work.  The boys do the job but the girls, including some well past adolescence, fail in every way.   The allure of a life as an 'Essex girl' may be drawing them, I suspect they watch 'TOWIE' and see it something to live up to.  Give me the elder regular checkout staff who for the most part are grown up, well most of them.

Much of my time has been taken up with catching up on things begun years ago.  A woman asked one day for information regarding a local village and we had none, no surprise there as there many villages in our area.  I decided to write out a handout for the village, and others also but never got round to it because of the interference of the war exhibitions.  Recently I managed to pick up some of the forgotten links, those not lost in the death of the old laptop, and have begun once again. 

Some villages here go back into the Iron Age, others appear to have begun just to till the fields of a Lord of the Manor, especially in Norman times, and hovels that once housed farm labourers after their long day in ploughed fields now sell for half a million or more to residents who never meet one another unless they collect the kids from school or lower themselves to get drunk in the one remaining pub, a pub the few remaining locals avoid.

It s no surprise men took to trades of any description if it took them off the land or flooded into bigger towns for work in unhealthy factories where wages were higher and rough conditions better than frozen fields.  It is no surprise also so many left voluntarily for war when the chance came, excitement, comradeship and a chance to see the world was not something a young fit man could wish to miss.  There are fifty or so memorials to those who did not return from their adventure around our district, not counting the ones in the bigger towns.

In days of old things were tougher.  If dad was working the fields the kids had to walk two or three miles on occasion into school.  Fun probably in summer but not so in winter.  Most of these kids were local but others had a long walk in to education.  I do not think most teachers had any qualifications, I am unsure when that became a requirement, but certainly on some census returns clever lassies of 16 years were noted as 'teachers.'  What did they know?  I suggest they were however more capable than the local young checkout staff of today.

Now, as you know, I am not one to complain

In fact this has always been one of the most noticeable things about me, my easy going nature. In fact, when I consider this, I can tell you folk are always saying, "You're not one to complain, oh no, not you!" This is something that happens to me all the time. As I write I recall a place where we had a small printer that produced long thin strips on which we printed relevant identification for the produce. One day one young chap was so impressed with me he used this machine to print 'I'm not one to complain' and stuck this on my white coat. This goes to prove how long suffering I have always been.

However, today I was once more in 'Somerfields' and was able to remind myself of the incompetence that marks this store out from all the others. The store has several checkouts, all running in the usual long line. Naturally only two are open at busy times, and today only one was being used. I took my two items to the cigarette (cough, choke, ugh) kiosk in the usual way to avoid a queue. Of course there were two people ahead of me, both carrying baskets stuffed full of goods. They were also female!

The first was slowly putting her goods into the bag she brought with her. Such folks always bring their own reusable bag in a vain attempt to save the planet. This bag is then placed in the boot of their 4x4 gas guzzler and proceed to drive the half mile to their driveway polluting all and sundry in between. However, this rich hippy finally managed to pack up and proceeded to put her payment card back into her handbag. As we waited for her to move aside to let the next woman in I almost informed her that "HURRY ALONG. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY IN JULY!!!!!!' but managed not to. Female two placed her basket on the small counter along with her handbag (why oh why do women NEED two bags?) and the dork behind the desk began the slow process again. While this was happening a second lass arrived and opened the other till! This one is clever, clearly a girl going places. This I can tell as she appears to be alive, unlike so many of her associates. I placed the two (TWO) items on the little space woman two allowed me, under her hand bag lay the plastic bags I needed. A subtle hint (grabbing the bag and shoving it in her direction) enabled her to make room with a whimpering "Sorry." But I still could not get the plastic bag. When I did the thing ripped as I opened it. I threw it in the direction of the checkout girl muttering something Jesus would never have imagined. By this time the clever lass was holding out my change and expecting me to take it. I ignored her. As I grabbed a bag she did too saying "Take the change and I'll pack it." So I let her.

Now imagine the scene. A small counter, two tills and the bags left on the counter for customers to use. But surely numskulls, if you just put the goods into the bags yourselves then you would have more room on the counter? The customer would leave quicker. We could get home before dark and folks would be happier! Why is it that something so obvious is beyond this company? The larger checkout are smaller than Tescos or Sainsburys and the situation with the bags there is totally inadequate. How come a company with so many employees cannot run itself on common sense grounds?

All that is needed is better use of space, employees with half a brain (an improvement on what is there now) and a common sense approach to moving the people along. This is the lower orders store around here. You know, neds, chavs and those who left school at fourteen like I did inhabit this place. (Hold on, something not right there!) Two of the girls are quite bright and the rest were clearly dropped on their heads at birth. Why do companies allow themselves to be run in such a consistently poor manner?

To make matters worse they would not give me a part time job when I asked!