My crazy chapter theory organises my life like a morgue. I like to view my life in “chapters”, it’s how I cope with change. I know some people thrive on it but I’m not a huge fan of change, myself. So while the chapters contained within the metaphorical piss-stained book of My Life are quite thin and choppy, I occasionally like to dive within them and share them with the world. What I’m going to write about today is not in a previous chapter of My Life but is instead, an on-going chapter and one I feel necessary to write about before I drink myself to death and shoot Mr.Muscle Bathroom Cleaner into my veins.
The biggest decision a freelance web-designer will make in a day, is what method he’ll use to smoke his marijuana when he wakes up in the morning. For the past month I have been working in retail, handling produce in a small supermarket. It’s my very first real job in a technical sense. Previously, I had only worked as a freelance web-designer, as you can imagine, this only involved drinking large quantities of beer, eating junk-food and making style-sheets all day. It was enjoyable and I never had to answer to anyone but myself and the occasional client. On the downside, it was not steady money and gathering motivation was very hard on the best of days.
My CISCO and Microsoft qualifications are coming in very handy in aisle one. Working the fruit and vegetables isn’t all that hard of a task. There’s no knack to it really but there’s more to it than I previously thought. I basically take large cages of produce from the lorry at seven o’clock in the morning, I split them down and place them on the shop-floor. I also reduce the prices on items, rotate the items and generally keep things clean. Basic work. Lot’s of lifting and shifting. Real man’s work in a sense, only for pussy boys.
I’ll go get those eggs you wanted, don’t you go dying on me now! One thing that takes a bit of skill in getting used to, is speaking to members of the public. For instance, helping out the elderly is great. Many pensioners have only a vague idea of what they’re looking for and after a few keywords, I’m normally able to help. For instance, an elderly woman once told me she was looking for a “firm vegetable” which was thinner than a courgette, I was able to guess this as asparagus and she was really happy. If she’s happy, then I’m happy. Pensioners ask about things a lot too, like the fruit’s country or origin, it’s ripeness and if we have anything smaller for their delicate false teeth. I like helping them because they always have good manners and are appreciative of my services.
I’ll go get those eggs you wanted, don’t you go dying on me now! I like to think that I’m a creative guy, I like photography, website and graphic design and I like to write. Unfortunately, the only area I’m displeased with is my writing and the only reason I continue to do it is because I have to convey things properly. If I never had anything to say, I probably wouldn’t be writing or using vocabulary or grammar. Though the point I’m trying to make is, as a would-be writer, I’m quite the observer. Working in a supermarket allows me to meet a bunch of new people, even if it’s just observing what they’re wearing, where they may have come from and what they’re buying. It all adds up to an interesting character, even if it’s not true. I just like being around people, even if they are total strangers and I’m lurking in the background like some sort of produce-zombie. It’s not much and won’t make sense to a lot of people, but seeing the mass of different characters that enter the supermarket everyday is healthy and helps keep my creative cells running.
I would go into the subject of workmates, managers and supervisors but unfortunately I cannot. For I have signed a contract to keep things under-wraps. Not only that, I don’t know these people well enough to judge or humiliate them here. Also, I don’t want to fuck with someone ballsy enough to padlock our fire-exits.
0 Response to “Padlock the Fire Exits, it’s Retail!”