The thick fog lay over the m40 like a blanket, visibility was down to
less than 5 feet. Cars overtaking would quickly vanish into the distance
and my rear view mirror revealed nothing but the occasional ghostly
shape looming from the wall of grey....... and then I started to see the
digital display signs, their lights flashing a dance of warning on the
central reservation....I couldn't make out what it said due to the lack
of visibility and had to wait until I was near upon it before I could
finally read the word, …... FOG.....it said, in bright luminescence.
How very helpful I thought, thankfully I can read, but imagine how many
illiterate drivers became confused?
The Pokey Badge
With the addition of the new (huge!) Euromillion badge to the on chest
array, we had to take great care when applying it to young Satheesh here
at Guyscliffe.
Now young Satheesh is a fellow of the smaller persuasion so the extra precautions were very necessary and great care had to be taken. Sadly, the initial location of the badge proved difficult, he was inadvertently stabbed several times as we tried to find free chest space and although fine now, there was a fear for a while that he may lose a nipple.
Once we had the badge finally in place we then had the problem of him maintaining his balance under the excess weight, and had to bolster him from behind while he adjusted. He cracked it soon enough and despite the odd topple forward he's now able to get about the store fairly well, albeit lurching rather a bit. He cant of course carry anything, so stocking up is out of the question but at least he can take breaks of convenience....hopefully without falling in.....and is relatively fine propped up at till one.
We have of course done a safety huddle sign off with him, insisting that he stay away from any magnetic sources.......
Now young Satheesh is a fellow of the smaller persuasion so the extra precautions were very necessary and great care had to be taken. Sadly, the initial location of the badge proved difficult, he was inadvertently stabbed several times as we tried to find free chest space and although fine now, there was a fear for a while that he may lose a nipple.
Once we had the badge finally in place we then had the problem of him maintaining his balance under the excess weight, and had to bolster him from behind while he adjusted. He cracked it soon enough and despite the odd topple forward he's now able to get about the store fairly well, albeit lurching rather a bit. He cant of course carry anything, so stocking up is out of the question but at least he can take breaks of convenience....hopefully without falling in.....and is relatively fine propped up at till one.
We have of course done a safety huddle sign off with him, insisting that he stay away from any magnetic sources.......
The AL Factor
The X Factor is back! Yes, Britain's glorified karaoke competion begins again with the only weeks worth watching, the freaks n geeks who's friends are clearly deaf! How can they claim friendship and then allow their 'friend' to make complete twats of themselves on national television?
The Micheal Jackson fanatics are my personal favorite, professing their undying devotion before going on to butcher one of his classics! Its the guilty pleasure of laughing at these poor sad saps that troubles me though, it's car crash television, you know your going to watch something horrific and its deeply wrong but you still sit there happily glued to the sofa with the 11 million other ghouls.(not the same sofa obviously)
Like a modern day reenactment of Victorian freak shows, the x factor wheels out freak after freak, "and now for your visual and auditory entertainment the elephant man will sing beat it by micheal Jackson"
I've also never seen one that doesn't do the dance, have one spangly glove and the trousers too short for their legs! Where the hell they get all this crap is beyond me, apart from Saturdays guy who apparently made his whole 'costume' himself! I think that's one of the most scary things i've ever typed....how long do you think it would take for a madman to knock up a Micheal ensemble in his bedsit above the chippy? The jacket alone must take weeks.
Watching the guy on Saturday I kept remembering the scene from silence of the lambs where the mad fella makes himself a suit out of peoples skin, granted he didn't then go and bust a moonwalk while warbling human nature but the visual seemed eerily apt...at least to me!.Unfortunately this also led to remembering the scene when he tucked his willy between his legs....uuughhh! The mad fella that is not the jacko, I don't think jacko even had a willy..
On the subject of mad Jacko fans I have a friend, name of Al, who is a rabid long term jacko fan and while, clearly not mad, he does possess a dazzling array of ocd's! I've a strong suspicion that we, his true friends, could maybe talk him into next years auditions? I for one would pay to see it!
He is most certainly capable of producing his own costume, he isn't into dressmaking don't get me wrong, but what the lad can do with a few rolls of sticky tape and a permanent marker is legend!
Another factor in my suspicion that he could join the ranks of impersonators is, he can do the dance to a tee! I've seen the lad moonwalk and he might be short, the ankle swinger pants would be a problem, but he sure can move!
I'm not sure if he can sing but as previously pointed out, that's very much not a prerequisite, either way we'd be on a winner, if he howls like 2 cats fighting in a bag? Comedy gold, if alternately he can hold a tune we go all out to make him a contender!
Al in the final would garner votes the world over! I reckon we could even get him sponsored by Pepsi Zambia, In a strange tribute to the infamous hair aflame commercial that never was!
The Micheal Jackson fanatics are my personal favorite, professing their undying devotion before going on to butcher one of his classics! Its the guilty pleasure of laughing at these poor sad saps that troubles me though, it's car crash television, you know your going to watch something horrific and its deeply wrong but you still sit there happily glued to the sofa with the 11 million other ghouls.(not the same sofa obviously)
Like a modern day reenactment of Victorian freak shows, the x factor wheels out freak after freak, "and now for your visual and auditory entertainment the elephant man will sing beat it by micheal Jackson"
I've also never seen one that doesn't do the dance, have one spangly glove and the trousers too short for their legs! Where the hell they get all this crap is beyond me, apart from Saturdays guy who apparently made his whole 'costume' himself! I think that's one of the most scary things i've ever typed....how long do you think it would take for a madman to knock up a Micheal ensemble in his bedsit above the chippy? The jacket alone must take weeks.
Watching the guy on Saturday I kept remembering the scene from silence of the lambs where the mad fella makes himself a suit out of peoples skin, granted he didn't then go and bust a moonwalk while warbling human nature but the visual seemed eerily apt...at least to me!.Unfortunately this also led to remembering the scene when he tucked his willy between his legs....uuughhh! The mad fella that is not the jacko, I don't think jacko even had a willy..
On the subject of mad Jacko fans I have a friend, name of Al, who is a rabid long term jacko fan and while, clearly not mad, he does possess a dazzling array of ocd's! I've a strong suspicion that we, his true friends, could maybe talk him into next years auditions? I for one would pay to see it!
He is most certainly capable of producing his own costume, he isn't into dressmaking don't get me wrong, but what the lad can do with a few rolls of sticky tape and a permanent marker is legend!
Another factor in my suspicion that he could join the ranks of impersonators is, he can do the dance to a tee! I've seen the lad moonwalk and he might be short, the ankle swinger pants would be a problem, but he sure can move!
I'm not sure if he can sing but as previously pointed out, that's very much not a prerequisite, either way we'd be on a winner, if he howls like 2 cats fighting in a bag? Comedy gold, if alternately he can hold a tune we go all out to make him a contender!
Al in the final would garner votes the world over! I reckon we could even get him sponsored by Pepsi Zambia, In a strange tribute to the infamous hair aflame commercial that never was!
The Man. The Pope.
This September the Midlands and surrounding area, (such as Warwick) will
be graced by a visit from his holiness the Pope!
As a good catholic boy by upbringing I am naturally very excited at the prospect of the pontiff popping into Guyscliff for a packet of pork scratchings and my retailers brain has been kicking into gear with ideas,
1. We must have a merchandising stand, like the England stand, replica flags papal hats and rosary beads. Pope on tour t-shirts even, WARWICK SEPT 2010.... Nothing too garish or tatty so we should perhaps discount Flowerfete as a supplier. Not unless we want little plastic wind up Popes on till 3.....I might suggest that one actually.
2. Naturally there will be an awful lot of holy folk in the vicinity, many of them while here may accumulate rather urgent confessional needs. We should provide for these needs by offering to situate a few portable confessional booths here on the forecourt. Naturally these booths will appear somewhat similar to portable toilets so careful signage will be essential, we wouldn't want any unfortunate accidents whereby some unsuspecting priest gets an unwelcome shower.....
3. It is entirely feasible that his holiness will visit one of our stores, I'm unsure of the protocol around whether we should upsell to the Pope, or even if he carries money in his...robe type thing....but wine of the month is particularly cost effective for communion wine I guess we could ask if he needs any? Failing that please revert to the little plastic wind up Popes on till 3
4. Queing for the Popes autograph should be discouraged although I do believe it is customary for catholics to kiss the papal ring....I don't know whether a private room should be assigned for this? ….ohhh ring as in Jewellery.... Phew!.....
5. Bp is a secular company renowned for acceptance of ,and respect for, all religions and beliefs therefore any favoritism shown toward the Pope cannot be tolerated and he must, in effect, be treated as a normal customer. He is probably just as annoying as a normal customer....I feel sure he has a Nectar card already but should he not, then it is our duty to encorage him to set one up, he can take the pack today, pop it in the glovebox of the Pope mobile then jump online when he's back at the Vatican and register at his leisure. Advise him there is probably a Sainsbury local in St Peters square.
6. Do not mention the war. If there are any old folk in attendance on the day likely to mention the war please have them locked in a suitable cupboard for the duration. A non-confrontational headlock is authorised for use during the Papal visit. ( Although his holiness is alleged to have been Hitler youth as a boy he assures the world it was because he liked the uniform).......
7. If there are large crowds and the opportunity presents itself, a few bottles of Volvic water blessed by the holy father would sell like hot cakes afterwards. Email Dwayne to send extra in labelled for holy water purposes.
8. With our own beloved Stonebridge winning a trip to SA for the world cup perhaps Flowerfete could be persuaded to sponsor a foreign trip based on sales of the little plastic wind up Popes?
9. Friday focus upsell item for Sept will, naturally enough, be the little plastic wind up Popes.
As a good catholic boy by upbringing I am naturally very excited at the prospect of the pontiff popping into Guyscliff for a packet of pork scratchings and my retailers brain has been kicking into gear with ideas,
1. We must have a merchandising stand, like the England stand, replica flags papal hats and rosary beads. Pope on tour t-shirts even, WARWICK SEPT 2010.... Nothing too garish or tatty so we should perhaps discount Flowerfete as a supplier. Not unless we want little plastic wind up Popes on till 3.....I might suggest that one actually.
2. Naturally there will be an awful lot of holy folk in the vicinity, many of them while here may accumulate rather urgent confessional needs. We should provide for these needs by offering to situate a few portable confessional booths here on the forecourt. Naturally these booths will appear somewhat similar to portable toilets so careful signage will be essential, we wouldn't want any unfortunate accidents whereby some unsuspecting priest gets an unwelcome shower.....
3. It is entirely feasible that his holiness will visit one of our stores, I'm unsure of the protocol around whether we should upsell to the Pope, or even if he carries money in his...robe type thing....but wine of the month is particularly cost effective for communion wine I guess we could ask if he needs any? Failing that please revert to the little plastic wind up Popes on till 3
4. Queing for the Popes autograph should be discouraged although I do believe it is customary for catholics to kiss the papal ring....I don't know whether a private room should be assigned for this? ….ohhh ring as in Jewellery.... Phew!.....
5. Bp is a secular company renowned for acceptance of ,and respect for, all religions and beliefs therefore any favoritism shown toward the Pope cannot be tolerated and he must, in effect, be treated as a normal customer. He is probably just as annoying as a normal customer....I feel sure he has a Nectar card already but should he not, then it is our duty to encorage him to set one up, he can take the pack today, pop it in the glovebox of the Pope mobile then jump online when he's back at the Vatican and register at his leisure. Advise him there is probably a Sainsbury local in St Peters square.
6. Do not mention the war. If there are any old folk in attendance on the day likely to mention the war please have them locked in a suitable cupboard for the duration. A non-confrontational headlock is authorised for use during the Papal visit. ( Although his holiness is alleged to have been Hitler youth as a boy he assures the world it was because he liked the uniform).......
7. If there are large crowds and the opportunity presents itself, a few bottles of Volvic water blessed by the holy father would sell like hot cakes afterwards. Email Dwayne to send extra in labelled for holy water purposes.
8. With our own beloved Stonebridge winning a trip to SA for the world cup perhaps Flowerfete could be persuaded to sponsor a foreign trip based on sales of the little plastic wind up Popes?
9. Friday focus upsell item for Sept will, naturally enough, be the little plastic wind up Popes.
Active Parrots
With the advent of active selling we finally get away from the
repetition that had become our byword for upselling, “ coffee? Tea?hot
chocolate?doughnuts? Repeat repeat repeat....customers were leaving the
tills looking shell shocked and confused, some of them were leaving the
forecourt having forgotten they'd come by car.
Now we have licence...and official passports.....to upsell according to the customer in front of us. Hurrah....you'd think! Sadly this has confused some of our csa's considerably, they liked repetition they were comfortable with it, like Hari Krishna with a whole new mantra they trotted out their chants, now here we were asking them to decide what to upsale.
We're trying to get them to recognise and act on link purchases, to emphasise this we of course used cigarettes linked to a lighter as an example. Unfortunately the former parrots among our crew have clung to this like a life raft in the sea of upselling, they now ask anyone and everyone if they'd like a lighter with every purchase, seriously confusing non smoking customers. “no no ” I hear young Liam exclaiming in desperate exasperation (he'd be tearing his hair out if he had assurance it would definitely grow back) “you have to link things with other things that make sense, you can't link lighters to toilet tissue, they're not trying to set fire to their *****s...”
The confusion is further compounded on lottery day when they're told to upsell lottery then link in scratchcards ….. “lottery, scratchcards, lighters?” I hear them chant, it cant be long before they've once again begun offering a complete inventory of the shop to each and every poor bemused customer.
On a side note a few of our overseas staff were delighted at the prospect of being issued passports until it was explained they were merely for star collection and wouldn't render them suddenly available for 40 hours..... one lad even tried to leave the country using his, he still thinks he only failed due to not having enough stars....As I said to him “yes Liam I know I said it is a passport but it doesn't even have your photograph in it ….oh I see you've stapled one in....”
Now we have licence...and official passports.....to upsell according to the customer in front of us. Hurrah....you'd think! Sadly this has confused some of our csa's considerably, they liked repetition they were comfortable with it, like Hari Krishna with a whole new mantra they trotted out their chants, now here we were asking them to decide what to upsale.
We're trying to get them to recognise and act on link purchases, to emphasise this we of course used cigarettes linked to a lighter as an example. Unfortunately the former parrots among our crew have clung to this like a life raft in the sea of upselling, they now ask anyone and everyone if they'd like a lighter with every purchase, seriously confusing non smoking customers. “no no ” I hear young Liam exclaiming in desperate exasperation (he'd be tearing his hair out if he had assurance it would definitely grow back) “you have to link things with other things that make sense, you can't link lighters to toilet tissue, they're not trying to set fire to their *****s...”
The confusion is further compounded on lottery day when they're told to upsell lottery then link in scratchcards ….. “lottery, scratchcards, lighters?” I hear them chant, it cant be long before they've once again begun offering a complete inventory of the shop to each and every poor bemused customer.
On a side note a few of our overseas staff were delighted at the prospect of being issued passports until it was explained they were merely for star collection and wouldn't render them suddenly available for 40 hours..... one lad even tried to leave the country using his, he still thinks he only failed due to not having enough stars....As I said to him “yes Liam I know I said it is a passport but it doesn't even have your photograph in it ….oh I see you've stapled one in....”
Charlie Of Raunds
The sheer quantity of pregnancies in Nadines patch over the last couple
of years led me to believe it was more than mere coincidence. Csas's,
duties, deputies, managers and even the Tm herself have succumbed to
this wave of fertility. With this in mind I did some digging to see if I
could establish a common link and it turns out I can!
The common link in all cases is, Charlie of Raunds!
I believe Charlie of Raunds to be some kind of latent fertility idol, everywhere he went over the last few years he left a trail of expectant mothers and indeed fathers. Fear not propriety fans you don't have to rub him for it to take effect nor am I suggesting Charlie performs ancient fertility rites, no dancing round the forecourt of Raunds naked or anything, least not so I've heard and I'm sure Sam would have complained.
With this in mind young Charlie is going to have to be careful around ladies who, shall we say, have left their child rearing days behind them, I cannot imagine the violence that would ensue should they find themselves pregnant having sat next to him at a territory meeting! I myself am taking great precaution after exposure to Charlie but have to say that 'great precaution' has a tendency to cut the circulation to certain important areas and my fear of something important falling off is greater than my fear of Fertile Charlie.
Anyway, Young Liam here at Guyscliffe is a beneficiary of Charlies latent fertilitynessness and is an expectant father. Now he's a young lad and needs guidance, not with the birds and the bees obviously he got that part but I am of course a veteran of the pregnancy battle field and would be more than happy to pass on the great knowledge and insight I have attained.
Most of it intuitive admittedly, I flicked through a pregnancy 'manual' one time and horrified at the graphic nature never went back! I preferred instead to interpret the changes and happenings as they ummm changed and happened!
(I did do the classes (natal aunties or something) but felt that, if she were allowed an evening hobby, couldn't I maybe take golf lessons instead?)
Thankfully, body wise, all of these changes are in the female, not for expectant dads the swollen ankles and irritated nipples. (I know not what irritates the nipples maybe its the sight of one another?) That aside the role of innocent bystander cannot be under played, its hell out there. When your the only buffer for a woman who spends months feeling like a beached whale, its a thankless task let me tell you and your personal safety is not improved by asking her at bedtime why she's brought a beach ball.....
The beached whale thing is a source of great emotional fragility to a woman unused to it. Take Emily for example, normally a dainty delicate soul (some still terrified csas on Nadine's patch would faint at Emily being described as delicate) she has had to suffer her 'extra luggage' during peak summer season, however being a hardy soul she still manage the Isle of Wight festival, (Rumours that small children used her belly as shelter are believed to be untrue, further rumours that she break danced to JayZ are also unconfirmed), whereas your average bloke would be laid up from conception onwards! Bedridden and demanding, “ I cant go the pub with me mates like this, my ankles are all swollen and my nipples are well irritated!”.....also no doubt severely cursing young Charlie......
Obviously each pregnancy is different (I guess) but even my random experiences might prove helpful to anyone who cared to ask, such as the nursing bra incident. My daughter being 3 weeks early my other half was unprepared and, despite her better judgement and, probably still under the effects of gas, instructed yours truly to obtain a nursing bra! I think at the time I managed a neutral expression that didn't betray my lack of comprehension. The frazzled neurons of my brain heard bra and nurse in the same sentence and I, (somewhat feverishly), imagined we were going to play dressing up when we got home! A thought prompted probably by the distant memory of sex at this stage......O.k so it wasn't that distant but measure distant as someone who thinks about it every 37 seconds i.e. male..... and this wasn't what she meant at all....
I was vaguely aware that Argos were unlikely to do them and eventually realised that Mothercare might in fact be the place to obtain said nursing bra. I was horrified when it was explained to me...somewhat crankily I might add.....that this item was needed for leakage! Needless to say I managed to purchase a couple of them, with the help of a bemused Mothercare assistant......
“I need a bra....not for me, I mean a bra for someone else.....ummm its got a special name?....has to be leak proof if that's any help?...yes yes that's it a nurses bra ...I need a nurses bra!........size? ...ummm about this big.....” I didn't dare to glance at the assistant at this stage for the sake of comparison, thankfully realising how imprudent it would be to say something like, “a little smaller than yours”....
The common link in all cases is, Charlie of Raunds!
I believe Charlie of Raunds to be some kind of latent fertility idol, everywhere he went over the last few years he left a trail of expectant mothers and indeed fathers. Fear not propriety fans you don't have to rub him for it to take effect nor am I suggesting Charlie performs ancient fertility rites, no dancing round the forecourt of Raunds naked or anything, least not so I've heard and I'm sure Sam would have complained.
With this in mind young Charlie is going to have to be careful around ladies who, shall we say, have left their child rearing days behind them, I cannot imagine the violence that would ensue should they find themselves pregnant having sat next to him at a territory meeting! I myself am taking great precaution after exposure to Charlie but have to say that 'great precaution' has a tendency to cut the circulation to certain important areas and my fear of something important falling off is greater than my fear of Fertile Charlie.
Anyway, Young Liam here at Guyscliffe is a beneficiary of Charlies latent fertilitynessness and is an expectant father. Now he's a young lad and needs guidance, not with the birds and the bees obviously he got that part but I am of course a veteran of the pregnancy battle field and would be more than happy to pass on the great knowledge and insight I have attained.
Most of it intuitive admittedly, I flicked through a pregnancy 'manual' one time and horrified at the graphic nature never went back! I preferred instead to interpret the changes and happenings as they ummm changed and happened!
(I did do the classes (natal aunties or something) but felt that, if she were allowed an evening hobby, couldn't I maybe take golf lessons instead?)
Thankfully, body wise, all of these changes are in the female, not for expectant dads the swollen ankles and irritated nipples. (I know not what irritates the nipples maybe its the sight of one another?) That aside the role of innocent bystander cannot be under played, its hell out there. When your the only buffer for a woman who spends months feeling like a beached whale, its a thankless task let me tell you and your personal safety is not improved by asking her at bedtime why she's brought a beach ball.....
The beached whale thing is a source of great emotional fragility to a woman unused to it. Take Emily for example, normally a dainty delicate soul (some still terrified csas on Nadine's patch would faint at Emily being described as delicate) she has had to suffer her 'extra luggage' during peak summer season, however being a hardy soul she still manage the Isle of Wight festival, (Rumours that small children used her belly as shelter are believed to be untrue, further rumours that she break danced to JayZ are also unconfirmed), whereas your average bloke would be laid up from conception onwards! Bedridden and demanding, “ I cant go the pub with me mates like this, my ankles are all swollen and my nipples are well irritated!”.....also no doubt severely cursing young Charlie......
Obviously each pregnancy is different (I guess) but even my random experiences might prove helpful to anyone who cared to ask, such as the nursing bra incident. My daughter being 3 weeks early my other half was unprepared and, despite her better judgement and, probably still under the effects of gas, instructed yours truly to obtain a nursing bra! I think at the time I managed a neutral expression that didn't betray my lack of comprehension. The frazzled neurons of my brain heard bra and nurse in the same sentence and I, (somewhat feverishly), imagined we were going to play dressing up when we got home! A thought prompted probably by the distant memory of sex at this stage......O.k so it wasn't that distant but measure distant as someone who thinks about it every 37 seconds i.e. male..... and this wasn't what she meant at all....
I was vaguely aware that Argos were unlikely to do them and eventually realised that Mothercare might in fact be the place to obtain said nursing bra. I was horrified when it was explained to me...somewhat crankily I might add.....that this item was needed for leakage! Needless to say I managed to purchase a couple of them, with the help of a bemused Mothercare assistant......
“I need a bra....not for me, I mean a bra for someone else.....ummm its got a special name?....has to be leak proof if that's any help?...yes yes that's it a nurses bra ...I need a nurses bra!........size? ...ummm about this big.....” I didn't dare to glance at the assistant at this stage for the sake of comparison, thankfully realising how imprudent it would be to say something like, “a little smaller than yours”....
Random? Not BP!
We are living in fear of the M&S mystery customer after failing a
question on both our first two visits. Had the customers asked the
actual questions they were supposed to, we may have had a chance! The
first one fell to me, an elderly lady asking for guacamole, which I
showed her.....NOT according to the form where I'd apparently NOT
explained which ham was in the deli deal!
Liam had the pleasure of the second one when, too his shame, he failed to explain or upsell a promo deal that hadn't started yet! His psychic powers once again letting him down.
Since this we have all been on tenterhooks every time a customer asks for help to the point of getting annoying with our OTT customer service, being as both the first 2 customers were elderly ladies we are targeting geriatric customers, if they look confused all the better .... Liams even offered to do their ironing.......but the thing is, now when a customer interaction where I've been expressly helpful DOESN'T turn out to be the M&S mystery shopper I feel cheated and cheap!
We had 3x 5 litre screenwashes out back so with 2 in one hand one in the other I carried them out to the bunker, at the door I had to side step a gentleman who upon seeing my hand full remarked in a very camp way, “mmmm strong fingers” ! I believe myself to have gone beetroot red at this stage and could think of absolutely nothing to say in response. I only hope he wasn't the m&s mystery customer.
In the weird and wonderful world of bp S&V actions reveals that the corkscrews allocated to M&S stores are in fact classed as, 'potential offensive weapons'. I see this completely and imagine there are many many admissions to A&E daily whereby the patient has had the top of his head screwed off in an act of street brutality. “stand still you ******* I'm gonna unscrew your ********** head”
On opening up my most recent breakfast sausage muffin for purposes of saucing, I discovered instead of the usual 4 halves spread sadly across the muffin I in fact had 5! An extra for which I was not charged and, fearing disciplinary action I promptly discarded the extra half. T'would have been far too sausagey anyway.
I now worry however that some muffin customer somewhere will receive a muffin with half a sausage short and unless they use at least 4 packets of sauce the extra dryness of the muffin will seal their mouths shut for several agonising minutes. At least they wont be in a position to complain....
Imagine the casualty depts surprise if they get an unscrewed head followed by a muffin glued mouth?
Liam had the pleasure of the second one when, too his shame, he failed to explain or upsell a promo deal that hadn't started yet! His psychic powers once again letting him down.
Since this we have all been on tenterhooks every time a customer asks for help to the point of getting annoying with our OTT customer service, being as both the first 2 customers were elderly ladies we are targeting geriatric customers, if they look confused all the better .... Liams even offered to do their ironing.......but the thing is, now when a customer interaction where I've been expressly helpful DOESN'T turn out to be the M&S mystery shopper I feel cheated and cheap!
We had 3x 5 litre screenwashes out back so with 2 in one hand one in the other I carried them out to the bunker, at the door I had to side step a gentleman who upon seeing my hand full remarked in a very camp way, “mmmm strong fingers” ! I believe myself to have gone beetroot red at this stage and could think of absolutely nothing to say in response. I only hope he wasn't the m&s mystery customer.
In the weird and wonderful world of bp S&V actions reveals that the corkscrews allocated to M&S stores are in fact classed as, 'potential offensive weapons'. I see this completely and imagine there are many many admissions to A&E daily whereby the patient has had the top of his head screwed off in an act of street brutality. “stand still you ******* I'm gonna unscrew your ********** head”
On opening up my most recent breakfast sausage muffin for purposes of saucing, I discovered instead of the usual 4 halves spread sadly across the muffin I in fact had 5! An extra for which I was not charged and, fearing disciplinary action I promptly discarded the extra half. T'would have been far too sausagey anyway.
I now worry however that some muffin customer somewhere will receive a muffin with half a sausage short and unless they use at least 4 packets of sauce the extra dryness of the muffin will seal their mouths shut for several agonising minutes. At least they wont be in a position to complain....
Imagine the casualty depts surprise if they get an unscrewed head followed by a muffin glued mouth?
I Dream Again
There are many many people who believe there is hidden meaning in our dreams. A whole industry of books and magazines has built up around this supposed
phenomena. The strangest of your dreams can be explained by dream
experts to mean something completely different than the apparent theme.
Even the falling dream has an explanation although for the life of me i
can't remember what that might be.
Well anyway, after a dream I had, one I actually remembered when awake, I want to buy into all this tosh and have it explained because it sure as hell confused me.
Now this is 100% an actual dream and I can only wonder at its meaning...
Basically I get a job in a big house as an older woman's odd job guy, strange in itself as I have the odd job capabilities of your average mollusc. Now the lady in question is clearly an older woman but an attractive one and a feel of the dream is that this could be one of those dreams ....which, ahem, I have no difficulty understanding at all.... that make perfect sense, but as it transpires, it isn't and certainly doesn't.make any sense that is, what does transpire with an undercurrent of sexual chemistry, is that our lusty heroine asks me to mow the lawn, which of course as odd job man I am happy to do, she takes me to a shed, points out the sit on mower and leaves me to it. 5 minutes later I'm mowing the lawn sat on said mower which is, in fact, a like a small but perfectly formed..... boat! I kid you not, I spend a seeming eternity mowing the lawn in a bloody boat! Like Popeye the odd job man toot toot. So, dream readers, what does that mean then please? Am I perhaps suppressing a deep desire to sail the ocean waves or is that too literal?
Well anyway, after a dream I had, one I actually remembered when awake, I want to buy into all this tosh and have it explained because it sure as hell confused me.
Now this is 100% an actual dream and I can only wonder at its meaning...
Basically I get a job in a big house as an older woman's odd job guy, strange in itself as I have the odd job capabilities of your average mollusc. Now the lady in question is clearly an older woman but an attractive one and a feel of the dream is that this could be one of those dreams ....which, ahem, I have no difficulty understanding at all.... that make perfect sense, but as it transpires, it isn't and certainly doesn't.make any sense that is, what does transpire with an undercurrent of sexual chemistry, is that our lusty heroine asks me to mow the lawn, which of course as odd job man I am happy to do, she takes me to a shed, points out the sit on mower and leaves me to it. 5 minutes later I'm mowing the lawn sat on said mower which is, in fact, a like a small but perfectly formed..... boat! I kid you not, I spend a seeming eternity mowing the lawn in a bloody boat! Like Popeye the odd job man toot toot. So, dream readers, what does that mean then please? Am I perhaps suppressing a deep desire to sail the ocean waves or is that too literal?
The Candidate
With the hole now plugged I, and my fellow territory hsse champions, may
withdraw our offer of a safety huddle.....'spillages safety alert
no33'.... I am still willing however to fly to the gulf coast for bird
sponging duties. I'm good with birds and have my own drum of citra clean
ready, I could get through a fair few seagulls and....ummm... sea
pigeons in no time at all.(Someone might have to point out the ones that
are supposed to be black to prevent unfortunate over scrubbing)
I'm also very friendly with many Americans....in spite of my bp connections, they still talk to me.... and would be able to spread the bp message, "whats wrong little people, whats your problem,? Its a big bloody ocean isn't it?, lets get this nonsense sorted pronto I need a day off to go sailing.....not in this ocean i might add!"
Obviously my services would cost money and, with compensation costs rising daily, I have a second, cheaper,solution. Boy scouts, girl guides, brownies and cubs! Schools out for 6 weeks and they must have had their fill of jumble sales and helping old ladies, how about an American adventure instead?! Seaside camping, wildlife and free oil for their lamps! Brilliant. Convince them there's a badge in it as well and we wouldn't have to fork out a penny.
After all this becomes old news and things settle down I'd imagine bp will be in need of a new leader. A statesman like figure, gifted orator and all round good egg would steady the ship and I have to say I have been preparing my CV. I appreciate store manager to executive director would be a giant leap but why not? I'm a skilled SOC conversationalist and long term bp apologist...."look I'm sorry about your pay rise, the uniform, cost of petrol etc etc"
I'm also very friendly with many Americans....in spite of my bp connections, they still talk to me.... and would be able to spread the bp message, "whats wrong little people, whats your problem,? Its a big bloody ocean isn't it?, lets get this nonsense sorted pronto I need a day off to go sailing.....not in this ocean i might add!"
Obviously my services would cost money and, with compensation costs rising daily, I have a second, cheaper,solution. Boy scouts, girl guides, brownies and cubs! Schools out for 6 weeks and they must have had their fill of jumble sales and helping old ladies, how about an American adventure instead?! Seaside camping, wildlife and free oil for their lamps! Brilliant. Convince them there's a badge in it as well and we wouldn't have to fork out a penny.
After all this becomes old news and things settle down I'd imagine bp will be in need of a new leader. A statesman like figure, gifted orator and all round good egg would steady the ship and I have to say I have been preparing my CV. I appreciate store manager to executive director would be a giant leap but why not? I'm a skilled SOC conversationalist and long term bp apologist...."look I'm sorry about your pay rise, the uniform, cost of petrol etc etc"
Bibbie And Mr's Warsop
Without explanation the planned turn of 2010 change to our new training
supplier didn't happen. I can reveal now that the delay occurred due to
Bibbie and Jake! The powers that be could not decide on names for our
new training characters and so shelved the changeover while urgent
naming committees were initiated and long hours of discussion and debate
ensued.
Anyway, now at last the names have been chosen and we are green for go! Hurrah for Jake n' Bibbie. It is believed 'Jake' took the longest to choose as, obviously, Bibbie is so universal.
As you will see from your postcards, and boy haven't we had a lot? Bibbie and Jake are animated avatar type characters....Those of you not in store have missed out on this treat, virtually every morning we get a wish you were here postcard from Bibbie and Jake, I don't know where here is exactly but they love it! The postcards are a series of scenarios played out by Bibbie and Jake whereby one or the other needs help with the new system.
What worries me about all this is, a) they both seem equally confused, one day Bibbie asks Jake a dopey question the next Jake has (apparently) forgotten everything and consults Bibbie! and b) I fear with some considerable dread that when our people go online to train, Bibbie and Jake will be animated characters there to assist them! These could get a little tiresome and I for one don't want to be explaining to new starters why one is called Bibbie!
If they were going for an animated/avatar kind of thing why didn't they get one of those suits that capture live movement by a real person who then gets 'animated' on screen, they could then have used Mr's Warsop and Mike Read as our new training characters. I'd have dialled in to see that alone!
I fully support the idea of an animated Mr's Warsop guiding us to a training utopia and will be utilising a suggestion box should the new web site have one. Just think, if it worked out we could roll with it and have animated store managers on conference calls! Brendan from Bedworth for example is a very physical communicator and this is lost on a conference call, mike o has to keep checking he is awake, with an animated Brendan this would be unnecessary as he would be able to jabber away complete with his usual array of hand movements! (For those of you who don't know Brendan imagine Buzz Lightyear doing Oragami without any actual paper)
Of course animation doesn't come cheap but computer animation is cheaper AND we could do it ourselves, as with anything computer related we'd just pass it to Calum! I'm willing to bet he already has an animated Dawn with which to navigate the Fourways back office system.
( those of you on other territories or departments will have your very own Calum from Fourways)
Anyway, now at last the names have been chosen and we are green for go! Hurrah for Jake n' Bibbie. It is believed 'Jake' took the longest to choose as, obviously, Bibbie is so universal.
As you will see from your postcards, and boy haven't we had a lot? Bibbie and Jake are animated avatar type characters....Those of you not in store have missed out on this treat, virtually every morning we get a wish you were here postcard from Bibbie and Jake, I don't know where here is exactly but they love it! The postcards are a series of scenarios played out by Bibbie and Jake whereby one or the other needs help with the new system.
What worries me about all this is, a) they both seem equally confused, one day Bibbie asks Jake a dopey question the next Jake has (apparently) forgotten everything and consults Bibbie! and b) I fear with some considerable dread that when our people go online to train, Bibbie and Jake will be animated characters there to assist them! These could get a little tiresome and I for one don't want to be explaining to new starters why one is called Bibbie!
If they were going for an animated/avatar kind of thing why didn't they get one of those suits that capture live movement by a real person who then gets 'animated' on screen, they could then have used Mr's Warsop and Mike Read as our new training characters. I'd have dialled in to see that alone!
I fully support the idea of an animated Mr's Warsop guiding us to a training utopia and will be utilising a suggestion box should the new web site have one. Just think, if it worked out we could roll with it and have animated store managers on conference calls! Brendan from Bedworth for example is a very physical communicator and this is lost on a conference call, mike o has to keep checking he is awake, with an animated Brendan this would be unnecessary as he would be able to jabber away complete with his usual array of hand movements! (For those of you who don't know Brendan imagine Buzz Lightyear doing Oragami without any actual paper)
Of course animation doesn't come cheap but computer animation is cheaper AND we could do it ourselves, as with anything computer related we'd just pass it to Calum! I'm willing to bet he already has an animated Dawn with which to navigate the Fourways back office system.
( those of you on other territories or departments will have your very own Calum from Fourways)
The World 'Online'
I'm worried about the online security of our Bunzl accounts....it
doesn't keep me awake at night but its a niggle none the less....My
worry is that our accounts could be compromised based on our, far from
secure, account details.
The account name being more or less the site number with the password being those reversed hardly seems fail proof to me.
Hackers abound on the internet many of them able to crack complex codes, I fear that Bunzls would be child's play and therefore our consumable supply network would be at the mercy of malicious miscreants. Fair enough they're usually interested in bigger game than jumbo toilet rolls and hot food bags but nonetheless we should be wary.
I envisage turning up to work to find a Bunzl delivery spilling back on to the forecourt with oodles of consumable stock over ordered to excess and barriers aplenty forming trip hazards to one and all.
What if said hackers go mad with my account and order several of everything that I don't need and wont run out of until 2014?...... Hang on a minute that's exactly what my management team order NOW.....o.k. panic over, the hackers couldn't possibly order worse!
Anybody need any suspension files? no? Forecourt towels? no? years supply of Jumbo, yet see through, toilet roll?
The account name being more or less the site number with the password being those reversed hardly seems fail proof to me.
Hackers abound on the internet many of them able to crack complex codes, I fear that Bunzls would be child's play and therefore our consumable supply network would be at the mercy of malicious miscreants. Fair enough they're usually interested in bigger game than jumbo toilet rolls and hot food bags but nonetheless we should be wary.
I envisage turning up to work to find a Bunzl delivery spilling back on to the forecourt with oodles of consumable stock over ordered to excess and barriers aplenty forming trip hazards to one and all.
What if said hackers go mad with my account and order several of everything that I don't need and wont run out of until 2014?...... Hang on a minute that's exactly what my management team order NOW.....o.k. panic over, the hackers couldn't possibly order worse!
Anybody need any suspension files? no? Forecourt towels? no? years supply of Jumbo, yet see through, toilet roll?
Roadkill
Slumped in front of the telly in that zombie like state familiar to any
4am riser, I happened to find myself watching River Cottage. For those
unfamiliar with the show, a chef called Hugh Fittingly Wittering (or
something like that ) takes on a cottage in the country where he lives
off the land raising his own animals and growing stuff, which he then
shows us how to cook in weird and wonderful ways.
I don't know why I was watching it exactly as I'm highly unlikely to raise my own pigs here in central Birmingham, I'm sure the neighbour would take issue with the noise for one thing, mind you bearing in mind she is known as the foghorn, perhaps she'd not even notice? Anyway those recipes are unlikely to get tried round our house but I could, I suppose, have a go at today's, which involved fresh roadkill.....
Roadkill he drove around until he FOUND, I should point out. I very much doubt channel 4 allow their presenters to be filmed hunting down a nice juicy pheasant in their 4x4s, although it would make for gripping tv! I hasten to add for those of you thinking the worst, when I say used, he didn't stir fry the roadkill or anything like that, marinading it fiorst in m&s sweet chilli, he actually used the carcass to bait an eel trap in the river, it was the eels he then cooked......mmmm eels fed on nice fresh roadkill, tasty!.....
As I watched him driving round the country lanes in search of the roadkill , I thought how much easier it would have been round Warwick,where not a mile goes by without some (usually large) wild beasty being pasted to the tarmac. Removing them
would be no problem long as you've a nice flat spade in yer boot. Soon have it scraped free of the tarmac.Not sure how the eels'd respond to pancaked pheasant but what the hey........
Surprisingly however, the road kill around Warwick never includes rabbits of which there is an abundance, I'd have to assume the little blighters are too busy engaging in sexual intercourse to cross roads ergo getting pancaked........ Btw, if we are at it like rabbits what are rabbits at it like I wonder?.........
An animal (bird) in ample quantities of deadness is the pheasant which, must surely, be the dumbest of all creatures? How they manage to stay alive long enough to create baby pheasants is beyond me?..... "hey baby how's about you and I get to makin some new pheasants huh?”.....screeechhhhhhh THUD .........
I spotted a plump badger on the way here this morning I might do a nice eel pie for Mr's Me from Guyscliffe later. I hope the bugger fits in the boot and really is dead! I'd hate to be half way to Birmingham and an angry badger suddenly wakes up to wreak havoc in my motor vehicle, its bad enough keeping the car on the road when your trying to swot a wasp or something so I'd rather not wrestle resurrected roadkill. Its probably even against some obscure bp health and safety rule.
I don't know why I was watching it exactly as I'm highly unlikely to raise my own pigs here in central Birmingham, I'm sure the neighbour would take issue with the noise for one thing, mind you bearing in mind she is known as the foghorn, perhaps she'd not even notice? Anyway those recipes are unlikely to get tried round our house but I could, I suppose, have a go at today's, which involved fresh roadkill.....
Roadkill he drove around until he FOUND, I should point out. I very much doubt channel 4 allow their presenters to be filmed hunting down a nice juicy pheasant in their 4x4s, although it would make for gripping tv! I hasten to add for those of you thinking the worst, when I say used, he didn't stir fry the roadkill or anything like that, marinading it fiorst in m&s sweet chilli, he actually used the carcass to bait an eel trap in the river, it was the eels he then cooked......mmmm eels fed on nice fresh roadkill, tasty!.....
As I watched him driving round the country lanes in search of the roadkill , I thought how much easier it would have been round Warwick,where not a mile goes by without some (usually large) wild beasty being pasted to the tarmac. Removing them
would be no problem long as you've a nice flat spade in yer boot. Soon have it scraped free of the tarmac.Not sure how the eels'd respond to pancaked pheasant but what the hey........
Surprisingly however, the road kill around Warwick never includes rabbits of which there is an abundance, I'd have to assume the little blighters are too busy engaging in sexual intercourse to cross roads ergo getting pancaked........ Btw, if we are at it like rabbits what are rabbits at it like I wonder?.........
An animal (bird) in ample quantities of deadness is the pheasant which, must surely, be the dumbest of all creatures? How they manage to stay alive long enough to create baby pheasants is beyond me?..... "hey baby how's about you and I get to makin some new pheasants huh?”.....screeechhhhhhh THUD .........
I spotted a plump badger on the way here this morning I might do a nice eel pie for Mr's Me from Guyscliffe later. I hope the bugger fits in the boot and really is dead! I'd hate to be half way to Birmingham and an angry badger suddenly wakes up to wreak havoc in my motor vehicle, its bad enough keeping the car on the road when your trying to swot a wasp or something so I'd rather not wrestle resurrected roadkill. Its probably even against some obscure bp health and safety rule.
Retail For Dummies
In an effort to sell more of the England crap....I mean merchandise....
I decided what we needed was a mannequin, as they have in clothing
stores to properly present the items for sale. Being able to see how
they'd look worn is a useful sales tool. Sadly our budget does not run
to the cost of a mannequin and therefore, still keen to fully show off
the England cr.....stuff, we must improvise!
We did consider misappropriating one from Top shop by sending Liam to walk out with one hand in hand (as if they were a couple), but Barry from Rugby rd told me that this doesn't work and only leads to arrest and a difficult conversation with Mrs Barry from Rugby rd, and so, plan B it was then....
It wasn't easy persuading Satheesh to spend hours each day as a mannequin but, for the good of the store, he was persuaded.....counselling: reasonable managerial request, spend a day as a mannequin , Fagoon agreed readily to this..….... Anyway we decked him out from head to toe in the gear with hats and flags tied everywhere and face paints plastered on the remaining visible flesh. In order to give our 'mannequin' a bit of a shine and aid with keeping him motionless, we also glazed him with apricot glaze from the cafe. This worked a treat apart from a few encounters with wasps whereby Satheesh deserted his podium.....upturned MandS crate.....and shocked the hell out of the queue as a mini sized mannequin galloped past them persued by a troup of wasps with the scent of apricot in their nostrils....yes,wasps have nostrils.......
All in All though he made a highly effective, albeit diminutive, mannequin and many people stopped to view the merchandise he sported often commenting on the lovely smell of apricot.
I feel moved to suggest my idea to Howard but appreciate some might have concern with staff being press ganged into costume as it were, but, again, I checked with Fagoon whether we were in effect bullying them to which she responded, “ bullying? I'll give them bullying the little *^&% £$.”....... I'd naturally suggest the permanent till one guy as ideal for the task, with him being pretty much immovable anyway, and he'd need less glazing....you know you've all got someone in mind.
We did consider misappropriating one from Top shop by sending Liam to walk out with one hand in hand (as if they were a couple), but Barry from Rugby rd told me that this doesn't work and only leads to arrest and a difficult conversation with Mrs Barry from Rugby rd, and so, plan B it was then....
It wasn't easy persuading Satheesh to spend hours each day as a mannequin but, for the good of the store, he was persuaded.....counselling: reasonable managerial request, spend a day as a mannequin , Fagoon agreed readily to this..….... Anyway we decked him out from head to toe in the gear with hats and flags tied everywhere and face paints plastered on the remaining visible flesh. In order to give our 'mannequin' a bit of a shine and aid with keeping him motionless, we also glazed him with apricot glaze from the cafe. This worked a treat apart from a few encounters with wasps whereby Satheesh deserted his podium.....upturned MandS crate.....and shocked the hell out of the queue as a mini sized mannequin galloped past them persued by a troup of wasps with the scent of apricot in their nostrils....yes,wasps have nostrils.......
All in All though he made a highly effective, albeit diminutive, mannequin and many people stopped to view the merchandise he sported often commenting on the lovely smell of apricot.
I feel moved to suggest my idea to Howard but appreciate some might have concern with staff being press ganged into costume as it were, but, again, I checked with Fagoon whether we were in effect bullying them to which she responded, “ bullying? I'll give them bullying the little *^&% £$.”....... I'd naturally suggest the permanent till one guy as ideal for the task, with him being pretty much immovable anyway, and he'd need less glazing....you know you've all got someone in mind.
Good Old Times
Young Liam from Guyscliffe in his short career so far, has become quite
a favourite with the regular (old) ladies. His boyish looks and ability
for looking interested at all times has rendered him the chief object of
their need to unload......so to speak.... and so, he is often to be
found trapped at the till point by some old dear regaling him with her
recent life history.
His aforementioned knack for displaying an interested face leaves the old ladies blissfully unaware that he has, in fact, fallen asleep eyes open and standing to attention......not THAT kind of standing to attention, he likes old ladies but not THAT much......at least this is what I'm convinced is happening. No one can stand so attentively to attention(!) listening to what 'our Gladys said to our Mabel last Thursday week at Primark' without losing the will to live surely?
The beauty of all this is that I can sidle.....again with the sidling...off to a quiet spot at the merest suggestion of old folk knowing that I'm not even on their radar now, which is set strictly to Liam, and while he listens to this weeks adventures in bingoing and the like, I can laugh at his predicament via cctv. Its brilliant, I should have hired a decoy years ago.
Of course I'm still highly careful on the shop floor because Liam isn't always around and when they cant get the fresh faced boy wonder, they'll invariably head for me!
For example we have 2 (not 1 but 2!) 'jokers' who come in the store every morning, both lovely people don't get me wrong but, if you think you've at some point in your life seen the worlds worst comedian(s) think again until you've met ours! As I said there is 2 of them, I think they rota the store in shifts because you can guarantee that when your working delivery, you will be accosted by one or the other with today's 'joke' for want of a better description.
The old guy has a love for our young Indian lads (platonic purely platonic) he loves to corner them by the chillers, putting his arm around them and clutching them to his chest, he 'batters' them with his jokes. I've asked the lads after ward on a few occasions what he said to them and they do not have a clue! He leaves the store laughing like a drain and the Satheeshs and Charis are left standing there with bemused expressions on their faces.
They put up with all this unwarranted physical contact without complaint and I admire their professionalism. I'm not sure I could stand being assaulted daily by an old man's arm pit while being regaled with bad jokes I cant even understand. I wouldn't mind but the jokes always call for a response, the lads laugh nervously and the old guy takes this as confirmation that he is indeed hilarious guffawing his way to the door basking in the glow of his M&S audience.
And then there is the old lady, the old lady who's convinced she knows me personally. She wanders in of a morning cracking jokes at whoever's within earshot and then launches into a conversation with me at the mid way point, as if we'd not finished our chat from earlier! I honestly don't understand a word she says.....she IS English and IS (apparently) speaking English but she and I have a communication barrier unsurpassed, she blathers away ending with an earthy cackle and I nod and laugh along as if I've understood every word and found her hilarious.
To be fair she seems happy enough with this I only pray she never tells me her dog has died or something. Although hopefully she wouldn't have a big goofy grin on her face in that instance. Now if we could only get her to remember her teeth before she leaves the house........
His aforementioned knack for displaying an interested face leaves the old ladies blissfully unaware that he has, in fact, fallen asleep eyes open and standing to attention......not THAT kind of standing to attention, he likes old ladies but not THAT much......at least this is what I'm convinced is happening. No one can stand so attentively to attention(!) listening to what 'our Gladys said to our Mabel last Thursday week at Primark' without losing the will to live surely?
The beauty of all this is that I can sidle.....again with the sidling...off to a quiet spot at the merest suggestion of old folk knowing that I'm not even on their radar now, which is set strictly to Liam, and while he listens to this weeks adventures in bingoing and the like, I can laugh at his predicament via cctv. Its brilliant, I should have hired a decoy years ago.
Of course I'm still highly careful on the shop floor because Liam isn't always around and when they cant get the fresh faced boy wonder, they'll invariably head for me!
For example we have 2 (not 1 but 2!) 'jokers' who come in the store every morning, both lovely people don't get me wrong but, if you think you've at some point in your life seen the worlds worst comedian(s) think again until you've met ours! As I said there is 2 of them, I think they rota the store in shifts because you can guarantee that when your working delivery, you will be accosted by one or the other with today's 'joke' for want of a better description.
The old guy has a love for our young Indian lads (platonic purely platonic) he loves to corner them by the chillers, putting his arm around them and clutching them to his chest, he 'batters' them with his jokes. I've asked the lads after ward on a few occasions what he said to them and they do not have a clue! He leaves the store laughing like a drain and the Satheeshs and Charis are left standing there with bemused expressions on their faces.
They put up with all this unwarranted physical contact without complaint and I admire their professionalism. I'm not sure I could stand being assaulted daily by an old man's arm pit while being regaled with bad jokes I cant even understand. I wouldn't mind but the jokes always call for a response, the lads laugh nervously and the old guy takes this as confirmation that he is indeed hilarious guffawing his way to the door basking in the glow of his M&S audience.
And then there is the old lady, the old lady who's convinced she knows me personally. She wanders in of a morning cracking jokes at whoever's within earshot and then launches into a conversation with me at the mid way point, as if we'd not finished our chat from earlier! I honestly don't understand a word she says.....she IS English and IS (apparently) speaking English but she and I have a communication barrier unsurpassed, she blathers away ending with an earthy cackle and I nod and laugh along as if I've understood every word and found her hilarious.
To be fair she seems happy enough with this I only pray she never tells me her dog has died or something. Although hopefully she wouldn't have a big goofy grin on her face in that instance. Now if we could only get her to remember her teeth before she leaves the house........
Psssst .......
Considering all the hoopla recently when M and S changed the name of
Food to go to Food on the Move.....yes people you read right, hoopla,
when M and S change something we get badgered about it for a
month.....it surprised me somewhat that we didn't actually tell the
customers? Or if we did I missed it, far too busy reading e mails about
it and emails about the emails followed by reminders not to forget the
emails etc etc.
Anyway, in my own small way I decided to put this right and at lunch time each day I've been sidling up to people choosing sandwiches and saying, "pssst, have you heard the news?" to which they reply "er what news?" "food to go is now food on the move!" I try to deliver it in as excited a tone as I can manage....
I have to say people were decidedly non plussed by the exciting news. No one has any sense of theatre anymore, if only they knew the creativity, work and man hours that go into these name changes. Committees were formed, meeting upon meeting attended and literature a plenty was printed and sent. "Sod plan b the trees can fend for themselves we must send out acres of bumph"
The customers seemed pretty disturbed by my sidling I must confess, (perhaps the psssting was a step to far?), which I suppose as advertising gambits go isn't a patch on the girl in her underwear gamboling round the woods! I wonder if she knows about food on the move or how she feels about sidling?
Anyway, in my own small way I decided to put this right and at lunch time each day I've been sidling up to people choosing sandwiches and saying, "pssst, have you heard the news?" to which they reply "er what news?" "food to go is now food on the move!" I try to deliver it in as excited a tone as I can manage....
I have to say people were decidedly non plussed by the exciting news. No one has any sense of theatre anymore, if only they knew the creativity, work and man hours that go into these name changes. Committees were formed, meeting upon meeting attended and literature a plenty was printed and sent. "Sod plan b the trees can fend for themselves we must send out acres of bumph"
The customers seemed pretty disturbed by my sidling I must confess, (perhaps the psssting was a step to far?), which I suppose as advertising gambits go isn't a patch on the girl in her underwear gamboling round the woods! I wonder if she knows about food on the move or how she feels about sidling?
Cross My Way
Changing a planogram I laid my stuff out carefully so as to avoid
obstructing our beloved customers, I worked back against an area of the
shop without product and therefore (theoretically) somewhere customers
didn't need to walk, after all there were 3 different routes to take to
get past me.
After the 14th customer had barged their way past me.......one large lady even 'bottomed' me as I was slightly off balanced , literally striking me with one of her ample cheeks, the left I believe, and I almost ended up in the chiller...... the end of my tether was firmly in sight and when an elderly gentleman(!) not only barged past but then tried to come back the same way I snapped!
I grabbed him forcibly by the arm and performed a citizens arrest......obstructing a retailer about his retail duties.......and, placing him in a non-confrontational headlock I was able to bind his hands with cable ties until the police arrived. The police were unaware of the law relating to 'obstructing a retailer about his retail duties' but with a new coalition Government in place and a strong desire to go to lunch, were prepared to take my word for it. Police time is far too precious to waste on things such as facts.
While the first part of this tale did indeed happen and has happened 44 times before (apart maybe from the ladies cheek assault which was a first for me), the remainder was,sadly, in my head alone. I did not accost any elderly gentlemen and the police didn't come when called, these are fantasies I must learn to overcome.......note to self, get better fantasies asap......
After the 14th customer had barged their way past me.......one large lady even 'bottomed' me as I was slightly off balanced , literally striking me with one of her ample cheeks, the left I believe, and I almost ended up in the chiller...... the end of my tether was firmly in sight and when an elderly gentleman(!) not only barged past but then tried to come back the same way I snapped!
I grabbed him forcibly by the arm and performed a citizens arrest......obstructing a retailer about his retail duties.......and, placing him in a non-confrontational headlock I was able to bind his hands with cable ties until the police arrived. The police were unaware of the law relating to 'obstructing a retailer about his retail duties' but with a new coalition Government in place and a strong desire to go to lunch, were prepared to take my word for it. Police time is far too precious to waste on things such as facts.
While the first part of this tale did indeed happen and has happened 44 times before (apart maybe from the ladies cheek assault which was a first for me), the remainder was,sadly, in my head alone. I did not accost any elderly gentlemen and the police didn't come when called, these are fantasies I must learn to overcome.......note to self, get better fantasies asap......
I Dream A Dream
I have a dream.....not a meaningful dream like Martin Lk but a dream
none the less.
My dream is one I have harboured for many years basically since I first noticed girls and that they liked a guy who could dance, my dream is to dance!
Not in a billy elliott style I hasten to add, no boy wanting to dance on a worldwide stage here just boy wanting to dance with girls without killing their feet and/or killing the rhythm! Alcohol acts as a buffer for this dream when occasion to dance presents itself but, while my head in its inebriated state is thinking the boy CAN dance the feet continue blissfully unaware of this update and continue to shuffle in a non-committal style, part rhythm part trying to make for the door!
Anyway, as I've said dancing has always looked exceptionally cool to me, when done well, apart of course from tap which is like rhythmic masturbation in public! Ooh look at me I can tappity tap myself to orgasm. I just do not see the attraction. Tap should be left to old people, take Bruce Forsyth for example, every time I' m unfortunate enough to see him on tv he comes on doing this soft shoe shuffle crap that just isn't dancing I'm telling you, its made up he's just slapping his feet off the floor vaguely in time to the music while the (elderly!) crowd goes into bloody raptures. I frequently get up and shout obscenity's at the telly at the mere mention of Brucey.
But back to my dream, I dream that I finally succumb to my dancing obsession and start to practice day and night with a purpose. I choose a routine and go at it hammer and tongs day after day, week after week, in a Rocky style, eye of the tiger I train non stop for my big moment. I phone in sick in order to train, I lose sleep in order to train, I dance up and down my street alarming small children but drawing ever approving glances from the old ladies and I give up all other hobbies, (shouting at Brucie for example) in order to train. All with one purpose in mind.
Until, finally the day has come,
and its conference time, the Celtic Manor is heaving with bp of all shapes and sizes, we've had dinner the awards stuff is done and dusted and the dance floor opens. The dj begins spinning his discs and slowly the dance floor fills, at first only with the ladies of hr who always hit the dance floor first, but then with all and sundry as the mood builds. At last my time is upon me, I must fulfill my destiny, I've done all that practice for this one moment in time and now is that moment, I make my way to the dance floor , through the drunken hordes to far gone to dance.
As I approach the floor I spy the vacant boards ahead of me, I work my way past the ladies of hr all huddled together in a seamless dance of arms and legs in perfect sychronicity including Fagoon who's offering advice to the less rhythmic among them bellowing encouragement over the pumping base, I sidle past Carl of Stonebridge who shirt wide open to the waist is impressing several females with his well practised hand jive, young Charlie in attendance picking up some of the masters grooves, “ watch this one Charlie he shouts” as he flips the jive from left to right, past Gavin once again reeling out his highland fling disco version, pretty much the same as the traditional version but with glow sticks.
At last I reach my spot and, space clear around me I crouch down into position fold my arms and begin, to the strains of the Village peoples YMCA, a faultless Russian cossack dance. At first I'm dancing the cossack dance completely unobserved but soon the other dancers become aware of my movements and turn to watch, one by one until the whole dance floor is looking my way, this ripple soon spreads to the remaining diners licking their plates at the tables and trying to drain that last drop from the free wine, they too move to the edge of the dance floor to watch. Soon a slow hand clap begins as the crowd witness my routine in full flow, Welsh Sarah starts up a chant of HOI
HOI HOI and that is taken up by the whole room, other guests at the hotel hear the commotion and begin to come into the room to see what's causing it. Bp's finest is now joined by Americans in
golf trousers all filling the room in a throng facing the dance floor and the one man who dances on at ever increasings speeds and complexity. A few spirited souls join in and, although they didn't practice like me they soon get in the flow, Ann from Chelmsley dances the cossack like shes been dancing it her whole life..............
And the night will live in legend both through bp and in local Cardiff folklore, the man who came and danced the cossack dance will never be forgotten at least until something better happens in wales......
My dream is one I have harboured for many years basically since I first noticed girls and that they liked a guy who could dance, my dream is to dance!
Not in a billy elliott style I hasten to add, no boy wanting to dance on a worldwide stage here just boy wanting to dance with girls without killing their feet and/or killing the rhythm! Alcohol acts as a buffer for this dream when occasion to dance presents itself but, while my head in its inebriated state is thinking the boy CAN dance the feet continue blissfully unaware of this update and continue to shuffle in a non-committal style, part rhythm part trying to make for the door!
Anyway, as I've said dancing has always looked exceptionally cool to me, when done well, apart of course from tap which is like rhythmic masturbation in public! Ooh look at me I can tappity tap myself to orgasm. I just do not see the attraction. Tap should be left to old people, take Bruce Forsyth for example, every time I' m unfortunate enough to see him on tv he comes on doing this soft shoe shuffle crap that just isn't dancing I'm telling you, its made up he's just slapping his feet off the floor vaguely in time to the music while the (elderly!) crowd goes into bloody raptures. I frequently get up and shout obscenity's at the telly at the mere mention of Brucey.
But back to my dream, I dream that I finally succumb to my dancing obsession and start to practice day and night with a purpose. I choose a routine and go at it hammer and tongs day after day, week after week, in a Rocky style, eye of the tiger I train non stop for my big moment. I phone in sick in order to train, I lose sleep in order to train, I dance up and down my street alarming small children but drawing ever approving glances from the old ladies and I give up all other hobbies, (shouting at Brucie for example) in order to train. All with one purpose in mind.
Until, finally the day has come,
and its conference time, the Celtic Manor is heaving with bp of all shapes and sizes, we've had dinner the awards stuff is done and dusted and the dance floor opens. The dj begins spinning his discs and slowly the dance floor fills, at first only with the ladies of hr who always hit the dance floor first, but then with all and sundry as the mood builds. At last my time is upon me, I must fulfill my destiny, I've done all that practice for this one moment in time and now is that moment, I make my way to the dance floor , through the drunken hordes to far gone to dance.
As I approach the floor I spy the vacant boards ahead of me, I work my way past the ladies of hr all huddled together in a seamless dance of arms and legs in perfect sychronicity including Fagoon who's offering advice to the less rhythmic among them bellowing encouragement over the pumping base, I sidle past Carl of Stonebridge who shirt wide open to the waist is impressing several females with his well practised hand jive, young Charlie in attendance picking up some of the masters grooves, “ watch this one Charlie he shouts” as he flips the jive from left to right, past Gavin once again reeling out his highland fling disco version, pretty much the same as the traditional version but with glow sticks.
At last I reach my spot and, space clear around me I crouch down into position fold my arms and begin, to the strains of the Village peoples YMCA, a faultless Russian cossack dance. At first I'm dancing the cossack dance completely unobserved but soon the other dancers become aware of my movements and turn to watch, one by one until the whole dance floor is looking my way, this ripple soon spreads to the remaining diners licking their plates at the tables and trying to drain that last drop from the free wine, they too move to the edge of the dance floor to watch. Soon a slow hand clap begins as the crowd witness my routine in full flow, Welsh Sarah starts up a chant of HOI
HOI HOI and that is taken up by the whole room, other guests at the hotel hear the commotion and begin to come into the room to see what's causing it. Bp's finest is now joined by Americans in
golf trousers all filling the room in a throng facing the dance floor and the one man who dances on at ever increasings speeds and complexity. A few spirited souls join in and, although they didn't practice like me they soon get in the flow, Ann from Chelmsley dances the cossack like shes been dancing it her whole life..............
And the night will live in legend both through bp and in local Cardiff folklore, the man who came and danced the cossack dance will never be forgotten at least until something better happens in wales......
Carry On Luggage
Meandering thought playing havoc again led me to pondering the ins and outs of your average sex change, most specifically the female to male rather than the more traditional male to female, which we all know a little about already right?
I mean it involves operations, hormonal stuff and the gradual growing of breasts etc, but what do we know of the female to male really? Not much at all I’m thinking, I mean how does that work exactly? Its not as if hormone therapy grows a penis now is it? And, I for one have never heard of a transplant style operation, I mean who would donate for one thing? I cant see that kind of donor card catching on, I sure as hell wouldn’t carry one!
My train of thought led me to thinking that the deal has to be prosthetic. A detachable maybe even interchangable penis in a wide range of colors to suit all. Perhaps your discerning former female could carry several? , a variety of penis if you will, in a display case. Presented nicely in little (or not so) velvet lined compartments.
Its entirely feasible I mean, I’d assume, your average newly made man wouldn’t want permanent stasis in either floppy or ….ummm.. more alert…now would they? Stands to reason they’d have before and afters . Reconnection of same would have to be rapid and easy to do as nothing would spoil the mood more than “ yes yes I swear I‘m turned on I just cant find my bloody screwdriver"
When your out and about tomorrow and you see a male who might not, when you think about it, look quite right somehow and he’s carrying a briefcase…..well, who knows eh……….
I mean it involves operations, hormonal stuff and the gradual growing of breasts etc, but what do we know of the female to male really? Not much at all I’m thinking, I mean how does that work exactly? Its not as if hormone therapy grows a penis now is it? And, I for one have never heard of a transplant style operation, I mean who would donate for one thing? I cant see that kind of donor card catching on, I sure as hell wouldn’t carry one!
My train of thought led me to thinking that the deal has to be prosthetic. A detachable maybe even interchangable penis in a wide range of colors to suit all. Perhaps your discerning former female could carry several? , a variety of penis if you will, in a display case. Presented nicely in little (or not so) velvet lined compartments.
Its entirely feasible I mean, I’d assume, your average newly made man wouldn’t want permanent stasis in either floppy or ….ummm.. more alert…now would they? Stands to reason they’d have before and afters . Reconnection of same would have to be rapid and easy to do as nothing would spoil the mood more than “ yes yes I swear I‘m turned on I just cant find my bloody screwdriver"
When your out and about tomorrow and you see a male who might not, when you think about it, look quite right somehow and he’s carrying a briefcase…..well, who knows eh……….
There It Rings Again
mid morning at the fun factory and the phone rings
me "good morning bp Kings norton ? "
him "What ?"
me "good morning , how can i help you ? "
him " is that Asda ?"
me "no I'm sorry this is a bp "
him " a what ?"
me " a bp ..as in petrol station "
him "well I've looked in the yellow pages and it says Asda ?"
me "well Ive looked at the darn pole sign and it said Bp !
I didn't actually say that last part but i wanted to !
I think actually I'll phone him back now and tell him after closer inspection I've found it is in fact an Asda and I've been coming to work for 2 years in the wrong damn uniform
me "good morning bp Kings norton ? "
him "What ?"
me "good morning , how can i help you ? "
him " is that Asda ?"
me "no I'm sorry this is a bp "
him " a what ?"
me " a bp ..as in petrol station "
him "well I've looked in the yellow pages and it says Asda ?"
me "well Ive looked at the darn pole sign and it said Bp !
I didn't actually say that last part but i wanted to !
I think actually I'll phone him back now and tell him after closer inspection I've found it is in fact an Asda and I've been coming to work for 2 years in the wrong damn uniform
Sunday Sunday
That alarm on a Sunday morning is a blessed little tune that wafts me softly from my warm bed and deposits me carefully in the bathroom,ready to begin my ablutions and kick start my happy day.Sunday's face scraping is even more pleasurable for it being welllll Sunday.
Oh Joyous Sunday how I love to work you.It matters not that my mouth tastes like I've had incontinent hamsters sleeping in there overnight nor that my tongue feels as if I have coated it in batter,No for I have work to go to and customers that await!
I feel joy when the first customer of the day badgers me for his missing supplement..."you have a free supplement missing sir?Well clearly that is not good enough and I can see that it has stressed you greatly,the veins popping on your forehead are a dead giveaway.Please please ,ease your troubled brow for it is Sunday and I,am here to help.Let me see if I can find you a replacement or failing that I could fill you in myself on the lives and happenings of various d grade celebrity's ".........this weeks shock exclusive Jordan blows her nose...........
Oh Joyous Sunday how I love to work you.It matters not that my mouth tastes like I've had incontinent hamsters sleeping in there overnight nor that my tongue feels as if I have coated it in batter,No for I have work to go to and customers that await!
I feel joy when the first customer of the day badgers me for his missing supplement..."you have a free supplement missing sir?Well clearly that is not good enough and I can see that it has stressed you greatly,the veins popping on your forehead are a dead giveaway.Please please ,ease your troubled brow for it is Sunday and I,am here to help.Let me see if I can find you a replacement or failing that I could fill you in myself on the lives and happenings of various d grade celebrity's ".........this weeks shock exclusive Jordan blows her nose...........
The Old Routine
"good afternoon is there any fuel with that sir?"
"WHAT?"
"Fuel?Have you had any today?"
"oh yes yes its ....umm...."
several minutes pass
"Which colour would your car be sir?"
"WHAT?"
"which.....colour.......is ........your.....car?"
"its the blue one"
"ahh ok...the blue renault,citreon or ford fiesta sir?
"yes"
by now the queue is back to the m42 and several customers have pitched
tents
"yes...okkkkk.....how much did you put in ?"
"its a blue one"
"rrigghttt...but exactly which...pause to allow ear smoke to
dissipate.....of the 3 blue cars would it be precisely
"ohh its the fiesta son"
"thank you sir...do you have a nectar card?"
"WHAT?"
"WHAT?"
"Fuel?Have you had any today?"
"oh yes yes its ....umm...."
several minutes pass
"Which colour would your car be sir?"
"WHAT?"
"which.....colour.......is ........your.....car?"
"its the blue one"
"ahh ok...the blue renault,citreon or ford fiesta sir?
"yes"
by now the queue is back to the m42 and several customers have pitched
tents
"yes...okkkkk.....how much did you put in ?"
"its a blue one"
"rrigghttt...but exactly which...pause to allow ear smoke to
dissipate.....of the 3 blue cars would it be precisely
"ohh its the fiesta son"
"thank you sir...do you have a nectar card?"
"WHAT?"
Stick Em'Up
Imagine my excitement this morning to , a ) actually receive post and ,
b) it include a whole ream of free stickers !! Woohoo free stickers !
( Obviously the excitement had been mitigated somewhat by the presence
of a bp envelope in the post , the arrival of merchandising matters for
example often triggering an asthma attack but heck did i mention there
were free stickers ? )
It never ceases to amaze me how quickly an excited moment can turn on you .....and so it was 30seconds later when I inspected said stickers to find they were in fact , Golden Rules of Safety stickers .....woo and a decidedly less enthusiastic hoo .......I've since e-mailed the hsse dept to feedback that i cant see these catching on ? Kids want teenage mutant ninja turtles and football players ,I just cant see them trading ,Golden rule 5 (working at height !) in the playground at break time
Ever helpful , the kind folk of Hsse have included in the pack , a ' table of suggested locations for the stickers ' ....Curiously enough I had my own train of thought as to where they could stick their Golden Rules of Safety stickers ...............
It never ceases to amaze me how quickly an excited moment can turn on you .....and so it was 30seconds later when I inspected said stickers to find they were in fact , Golden Rules of Safety stickers .....woo and a decidedly less enthusiastic hoo .......I've since e-mailed the hsse dept to feedback that i cant see these catching on ? Kids want teenage mutant ninja turtles and football players ,I just cant see them trading ,Golden rule 5 (working at height !) in the playground at break time
Ever helpful , the kind folk of Hsse have included in the pack , a ' table of suggested locations for the stickers ' ....Curiously enough I had my own train of thought as to where they could stick their Golden Rules of Safety stickers ...............
Johnson And Not Johnson
Finally having had our new chemicals fitted by Johnson d we received training in their usage from the lady rep, training I thought? But I am a retail professional of many years standing, what must they show me? Anyway the training was simple enough but a Tad disconcerting due to the repeated, and very grave, warnings re using gloves when utilising the chemicals. Now we've always been told to use gloves but the lady rep was most insistent and wore a terrified expression everytime she mentioned it.
I had also seen welsh Sarah at the last meeting and she'd had her chems before us, ignored the warnings and was currently sporting elderly tortoise skin knuckles as a result,"4 seconds I had my hands in the water boyo" she remarked. With all this in mind I felt it my duty as a caring manager to test said products before unleashing them on my staff and so, we embarked on a controlled experiment whereby we filled the cleaning sink with the solution and, choosing our smallest csa, little satheesh, we kitted him out in protective wear, ie goggles and the wellies, and then carefully emersed him in the sink. (fear not safety fans for we protected our selves from splash back by lowering him from atop the step ladders) Results were inconclusive, he sat there for the whole of his break and although the protective gear survived intact he himself emerged completely wrinkled from head to toe, yes even more wrinkled than Brendan of Bedworth.
Not a sight anyone needs to see and two of our female csa's fainted in shock, one of whom only heard the tale second hand. "more than Brendan of Bedworth?" she was heard to remark before the sound of her head hitting the floor echoed across the phoneline.
The irony of all this is that cleaning wise, the chems are only marginally more effective than plain water!
I had also seen welsh Sarah at the last meeting and she'd had her chems before us, ignored the warnings and was currently sporting elderly tortoise skin knuckles as a result,"4 seconds I had my hands in the water boyo" she remarked. With all this in mind I felt it my duty as a caring manager to test said products before unleashing them on my staff and so, we embarked on a controlled experiment whereby we filled the cleaning sink with the solution and, choosing our smallest csa, little satheesh, we kitted him out in protective wear, ie goggles and the wellies, and then carefully emersed him in the sink. (fear not safety fans for we protected our selves from splash back by lowering him from atop the step ladders) Results were inconclusive, he sat there for the whole of his break and although the protective gear survived intact he himself emerged completely wrinkled from head to toe, yes even more wrinkled than Brendan of Bedworth.
Not a sight anyone needs to see and two of our female csa's fainted in shock, one of whom only heard the tale second hand. "more than Brendan of Bedworth?" she was heard to remark before the sound of her head hitting the floor echoed across the phoneline.
The irony of all this is that cleaning wise, the chems are only marginally more effective than plain water!
The Prodigal Son
Dear India,
Please welcome your native son, and my good friend, mr Rohit back to his homeland with open arms. He left your shores a boy but returns a man. Not that he experienced any of our fine local women here but let me assure you that was due entirely to their inherent racism and not any lack of effort on Rohit's part. He was most loud and persistent in his attempts to woo them. He has however met many characters that will help him face almost anything in life going forward, englands loss will be indias gain as no one who has spent anytime at all with Daz and chappers can fail to be prepared for anthing.His mental strength is now second to none...except maybe hitesh and kunal who were also 'dazzed' while here and have probably taken several months to once again sleep at night without the terror. Rohit has taken all his bp uniform back with him with the intention of creating a fashion buzz on the streets of mumbai. He will be quite the envy of all fine Indian gentlemen as he struts around in the sunshine wearing his m and s fleece! Finally let me assure you that although tempted by the women and the drink he did not partake of drugs while here, in any case lemsip is entirely legal.
Yours sincerly, England
ps. Kunal and lalit having spent less time here should have returned home relatively undamaged......relatively
Please welcome your native son, and my good friend, mr Rohit back to his homeland with open arms. He left your shores a boy but returns a man. Not that he experienced any of our fine local women here but let me assure you that was due entirely to their inherent racism and not any lack of effort on Rohit's part. He was most loud and persistent in his attempts to woo them. He has however met many characters that will help him face almost anything in life going forward, englands loss will be indias gain as no one who has spent anytime at all with Daz and chappers can fail to be prepared for anthing.His mental strength is now second to none...except maybe hitesh and kunal who were also 'dazzed' while here and have probably taken several months to once again sleep at night without the terror. Rohit has taken all his bp uniform back with him with the intention of creating a fashion buzz on the streets of mumbai. He will be quite the envy of all fine Indian gentlemen as he struts around in the sunshine wearing his m and s fleece! Finally let me assure you that although tempted by the women and the drink he did not partake of drugs while here, in any case lemsip is entirely legal.
Yours sincerly, England
ps. Kunal and lalit having spent less time here should have returned home relatively undamaged......relatively
Zap That Fly
I'm fascinated by the fly zapper we have in our cafés.
I've never actually seen the thing deal with a fly but occasionally hear it zapping away and so have always assumed it was doing its job. I now suspect its been pulling a fast one and has, all this time, been zapping dust mites in a cunning attempt to look efficient, but the thing is, why would any self respecting fly be hanging about that close to the ceiling? All the good stuffs down low, there are surfaces to defecate on and human beings to annoy. I've never even seen one in the vicinity of the zapper and, unless it has an attractant (fly porn?)I can't see it ever even seeing a fly let alone frying one.
I pondered this the other day as I tried to introduce a fly in my office to the concept of the rolled up newspaper. O.K. so I actually used my competency dictionary,(hey I knew it would come in handy!), and I didn't care which competency the fly fell too, I was determinedly trying to show him ALL of them in close up detail!.... “come on fly” I muttered, “there are several, take your pick”..... The fly however, no doubt recognising the evils of the competency dictionary was having none of it and continued to career round the Guyscliffe filing system. (at fly scale the equivalent of Switzerland)
I contemplated taking the café's zapper off the wall and waving it at the fly like some backward darth vader, but didn't have a screwdriver handy or the trust in my diy capability. The only thing likely to have gotten zapped was me with a few thousand volts of electricity, still, I could do with a new hairstyle.
Anyway, I'm returning my competency dictionary to Fagoon and insisting on a heavier larger faced model, how on earth am I to battle fly kind with this dinky thing? Its not even proved a good door stop, bloody door still keeps locking me out! When Nadine asks me which competencies i've hit this month and I can't remember a single one, I want to at least respond with some fly killing success stories.
I've never actually seen the thing deal with a fly but occasionally hear it zapping away and so have always assumed it was doing its job. I now suspect its been pulling a fast one and has, all this time, been zapping dust mites in a cunning attempt to look efficient, but the thing is, why would any self respecting fly be hanging about that close to the ceiling? All the good stuffs down low, there are surfaces to defecate on and human beings to annoy. I've never even seen one in the vicinity of the zapper and, unless it has an attractant (fly porn?)I can't see it ever even seeing a fly let alone frying one.
I pondered this the other day as I tried to introduce a fly in my office to the concept of the rolled up newspaper. O.K. so I actually used my competency dictionary,(hey I knew it would come in handy!), and I didn't care which competency the fly fell too, I was determinedly trying to show him ALL of them in close up detail!.... “come on fly” I muttered, “there are several, take your pick”..... The fly however, no doubt recognising the evils of the competency dictionary was having none of it and continued to career round the Guyscliffe filing system. (at fly scale the equivalent of Switzerland)
I contemplated taking the café's zapper off the wall and waving it at the fly like some backward darth vader, but didn't have a screwdriver handy or the trust in my diy capability. The only thing likely to have gotten zapped was me with a few thousand volts of electricity, still, I could do with a new hairstyle.
Anyway, I'm returning my competency dictionary to Fagoon and insisting on a heavier larger faced model, how on earth am I to battle fly kind with this dinky thing? Its not even proved a good door stop, bloody door still keeps locking me out! When Nadine asks me which competencies i've hit this month and I can't remember a single one, I want to at least respond with some fly killing success stories.
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