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Checkout operators who hold long conversations with cunts they know.


Guest MikeD

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Guest MikeD

Oh really? You saw your brother's, sister's, auntie's, uncle's, son, daughter doing fucking blah, blah, fucking blah yesterday?

Well, you obviously know each other quite well so finish your shift, call or visit each other because me and the half dozen other poor bastards in the queue would like to get out of here before the fucking food we've bought goes past it's fucking expiry date.

Fuck off.

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Oh really? You saw your brother's, sister's, auntie's, uncle's, son, daughter doing fucking blah, blah, fucking blah yesterday?

Well, you obviously know each other quite well so finish your shift, call or visit each other because me and the half dozen other poor bastards in the queue would like to get out of here before the fucking food we've bought goes past it's fucking expiry date.

Fuck off.

Its the standard of conversation that gets me. I'm not expecting a full discourse on Dostoyevsky, or a debate on Chinese neo-capitalist fiscal policy. But at least throw a dog a fucking bone if we're being made to wait, by talking about something worth earwigging to. But no, all you get off the brain dead cunts are animalistic grunts and a string of "so, I was like", " oh my god, really" stock chav phrases. Cunts. I fucking hate checkout staff. I may have mentioned this before...

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Was in M and S buying a dress for a wedding when the asked if I had one of their charge cards. When I said I hadn't she asked if i wanted one I again said no to this she asked "why"? Because I dont want one. She then called her senior colleague over who launched into a shpiel about the benefits owning one. In the end I turned leaving the dress on the counter and fucking off. Fine ask but if a customer says no then shut the fuck up and do your job.

 

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Guest MikeD

It's worse if the shopper has a kid with them. 'Oh isn't he/she a cutie. What have they been doing today then?' All in a stupid childish voice of course.

I'm thinking more along the lines of, I wonder how far the little bastard would stay airborne for if I kicked it hard enough.

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Guest Bill Stickers

Hear, hear!

The other day I happened to end up on the Albert Road in Portsmouth. While it has some cracking pubs, the "locals" are brain-dead cretins of the highest calibre.

In an off-license, I ended up stuck behind a cashier and her friend. In turn, they would regale each other with a shitty story of no merit, then declare "You know what I'm like, you know what I'm like!"

I do know what you're like. You're very much like the kind of cunt I want to run over in an articulated lorry.

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It's worse if the shopper has a kid with them. 'Oh isn't he/she a cutie. What have they been doing today then?' All in a stupid childish voice of course.

I'm thinking more along the lines of, I wonder how far the little bastard would stay airborne for if I kicked it hard enough.

Its strange that shop staff seem to be the last bastion of people who it is deemed acceptable to freely talk and fawn over a complete strangers child. If I was roaming around the women's lingerie section in BHS, dishing out the tickle monster to random children I'd be quite rightly locked up. Put on a polyester uniform, a gormless look and a name badge and its somehow less fucking sinister.

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Was in M and S buying a dress for a wedding when the asked if I had one of their charge cards. When I said I hadn't she asked if i wanted one I again said no to this she asked "why"? Because I dont want one. She then called her senior colleague over who launched into a shpiel about the benefits owning one. In the end I turned leaving the dress on the counter and fucking off. Fine ask but if a customer says no then shut the fuck up and do your job.

 

Why did you even go to the checkout? What's wrong with just stuffing the dress up your jumper and pretending to be pregnant? 

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Guest nobgobbler

Why did you even go to the checkout? What's wrong with just stuffing the dress up your jumper and pretending to be pregnant? 

​Those big fat gypsy wedding dresses are not going to fit up even a keith size jumper. 

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Guest nobgobbler

Was in M and S buying a dress for a wedding when the asked if I had one of their charge cards. When I said I hadn't she asked if i wanted one I again said no to this she asked "why"? Because I dont want one. She then called her senior colleague over who launched into a shpiel about the benefits owning one. In the end I turned leaving the dress on the counter and fucking off. Fine ask but if a customer says no then shut the fuck up and do your job.

 

​I kept getting offered these and always refused. Until one day I bought a shit load of stuff for myself and for my sister so it was quite a lot of money. I was tempted by the 10 percent discount and I caved in. I thought I'd use the discount, pay the bill, then bin the card. Kept me waiting ages and the people in the queue were getting pissed off. She put my details in 3 times, no good. Called over the supervisor, she did it and said. "Sorry not today." What? "Something has flagged up on the system and we can't issue a card to you." Oh, why not? "I'm not allowed to say." What? "Sorry not today, how are you paying?" Fucking hell I was hopping mad, making out like I was some sort of criminal and not entitled to have one of their poxy cards. Embarrassed, and thinking I don't need this shit, I said nothing, paid up and left red faced quick sharp. My sister's got a credit licence so she put my details in. There was no problem, surprise surprise. But because my address came up as a business address the idiot shop girls decided I was a lying criminal cunt. Thick cunts, that's why they work in a fucking shop. 

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hear what you say MD - but the flipside is the pig ignorant fuck who continues the urgent phone conversation, texting session and on line bingo while breathing that unique blend of cider, halitosis, park drive and arse crack fumes over everything and everyone at the checkout or counter.

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Sainsbury's now have people patrolling the checkout areas ushering people into queues. Was there this morning with my twin nieces in their buggy when I stopped to check if they were awake when one of these gauleiters tried to usher me into a queue when I didn't want to bloody queue.

Then I had to deal with one of those fucking nazi self checkouts. So what if I moved my pizza off the bagging area. I'm not gonna put a bag of maris pipers on it am I?

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Its strange that shop staff seem to be the last bastion of people who it is deemed acceptable to freely talk and fawn over a complete strangers child. If I was roaming around the women's lingerie section in BHS, dishing out the tickle monster to random children I'd be quite rightly locked up. Put on a polyester uniform, a gormless look and a name badge and its somehow less fucking sinister.


That's how Sir Jimmy got away with the savilry.

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