Death of an Institution
I love Christmas. No, really, I do. Yes, it’s always ever so slightly disappointing on the gift front, but it’s better to give than to receive particularly when you’re a notoriously awkward person to buy for. What I find difficult is that there’s quite a lot of hanging around involved.
Take today, for instance. Today I woke up at a reasonable hour, but stayed in bed until eleven because there wasn’t really any great reason to get up (it’s cold outside, there’s no kind of atmosphere etc…). Quick shower, some breakfast, and a decision that I may as well amuse myself in town, since I appeared to have missed Homes Under The Hammer and This Morning are still on their Christmas break.
So I jump in my car and bimble off into town. We have the (dis)pleasure of hosting a Woolworths, which was closing down today. In the hope of getting a bargain I ventured inside, only to find it closely resembled a jumble sale. Then I remembered that even at 80% off they’re still selling the same crap that I didn’t want to buy last week either.
Death of an institution
When I was a kid, this was the shop that I always wanted to go in, and because of that it holds a special place in my heart. Both my brothers at one point worked there, and one member of staff in particular (I won’t mention her name but if you live here you know what it is) always remembers me. Whether I want her to or not is another issue, but that’s for another day. But now, I wouldn’t go in there through choice for a number of reasons – the main one being (brace yourself)…
The staff are shit.
The ones who work Saturdays are all about twelve and a half and seem to have recently undergone frontal lobotomies. With a very small number of exceptions, none of them are capable of saying ‘please’ or ‘thank you’, and the avoidance of eye contact is more akin to being on an underground platform on a Friday night next to a shifty looking bloke carrying a rucksack.
The ones who dont work Saturdays (with the exception of the lady already mentioned) are all miserable buggers who wouldn’t know good customer service if it slapped them firmly in the face with a haddock so fresh it’s still dripping. I do not expect to queue for half an hour while three of you stand behind the counter arguing about whose turn it is to restock the pick and mix.
This may sound a harsh way to describe a load of people who are about to be made redundant, but it’s the truth. Good luck in the job hunt.
Hmm… Anyway… What was the point of this post? Aaah yes. The more observant iPhone users among you will notice that I’ve added an iPhone friendly thingy to make posts easier to read. If you view the full version you now also get my latest Tweet added to the front page. If you don’t know what Twitter is, you should. Google it.
Happy New Year!
