Tales from the Co-op - Vol 4

2.   Home delivery training

Last week, I arranged for home delivery of my weekly shop from the co-op.  When I got to the till and gave the cashier my bit of paper, she said “Sorry, I’m new.  I don’t know what to do.”

I informed her that she needed to ring her bell and call “Home delivery, till number 3”.  She did so, and the bell rang incessantly which seemed to distress her.  

Eventually a colleague appeared who informed me me that she was also new and had never dealt with a home delivery before.

I replied “Don’t worry, I’ve done it lots of times.” I helped her sort the groceries into bags according to whether they were fresh, ambient or frozen.  When it came to taking payment, the young woman on the till did not know how to scan the home delivery info.

I spotted a more senior member of staff on the self-checkout and suggested she call him over.  When he arrived, he said “I haven’t worked on the till for two years.”

After what seemed an age, between the four of us, we completed the transaction.  I joked that they should pay me for staff training!

1. Cash back saga 

Last Saturday I had a basket full of shopping when I remembered I had no cash on me.  I went back outside to use the cash machine.  It was not working so I crossed over the road to go to the bank.  I then decided to get bread from the local bakers.  I picked the wrong moment!  A woman got in just before me and spent ages buying half the shop.  Eventually I got served.  

Back at the co-op, I retrieved my basket and queued at the kiosk to pay.  The same woman appeared behind me and I heard her ask: “Do I have to buy something to get cash back?” She sounded indignant that the cash machine wasn’t working, as if it were a personal affront.  I almost pointed out that she had walked past a bank with a cash dispenser on the other side of the street but decided I couldn’t be bothered.  

The cashier replied, “Yes, you have to buy something”.  

She then asked “Is there a minimum spend?”  

It transpired there was not and she grabbed a pack of sweets.  

Back home, I marvelled at how a short pop to the shop had turned into an expedition!

Tales from the Co-op Vol 3

12.              Wanker

The co-op workforce appear a lot happier and friendlier since the grand re-opening.  The cheery woman scanning my items asked after my health and I said it must be nice to be back.  “It’s nice to be back inside.” she informed me, “Rather than having to stand around in the cold staffing the ‘pop up shop’”.  

As I worked through my shopping list, I searched in vain for an everyday item that alluded me since it had been relocated after refurbishment.  I asked a young woman on the shop floor for help.  As I spoke to her, I noticed she wore a headset and I wondered if she was listening to music.  But then I realised it was a hi-tech communications device. 

The cashier at the nearby kiosk said “hello” to me and I mentioned the new fangled devices and posited that they were probably an improvement on shouting at one another across the store. 

”That’s true”, she agreed, “But you need to be careful.” 

“Why?” I asked.

 “Well, the other day, a young male colleague didn’t realise his was still turned on and called the boss a wanker.  That’s why I don’t like wearing mine.”

 
11. Cakes and Porkers

Since the Boxing Day flood, during which the co-op was totally submerged, purchases had to be made from a van parked outside the ruined store.  The grand reopening was announced via leaflet drops, strewn with coupons.  As a member, I got a voucher for a free cake and was keen to visit on the first day to claim this boon.  As I left my house, I saw a neighbour and had a bit of a chat.  I mentioned free cake and she was most put out that her husband had been out earlier and not brought one back.  

Arriving at the reborn store, I had a bit of an irate moment as I realised the spanking new trolleys were coin-operated and I had no change on me.  I went inside and picked up a basket even though it was not big enough for my intended purchases.  I hovered at the entrance slightly over-awed by the buzziness and busyness of the place.  I fended off offers of free sausage samples from the ‘Porcus’ purveyors.  

An employee handing out leaflets approached me.  I asked her if I could get change for the trolley and she kindly obliged.  I then proceeded round the aisles, sparkling with newness.

Cabinets with sliding doors now housed most of the stock, making it difficult to spot things.  And of course there had been the inevitable change round of entire sections to confuse us more. Keeping my nerve, I managed to get most items on my list.  

At the checkout I started to unload my shopping onto the belt, despite  a dearth of ‘next customer’ bars.  The young man on the till waved one of the rare bars at me and asked: “are there any of them down there?”  I made a show of looking underneath and then informed him: “No.  If there was, I’d be using it”, much to the amusement of the old lady in front of me in the queue.  

As I was being served, the cashier chatted to his mate.  Out of interest, I asked where the home delivery machine had gone. 

“It’s over there, behind the porkers”, he informed me.  Then he realised what he had said and coloured with embarrassment.   

All three of us laughed and I said “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.  It’s the excitement of being inside again, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” he said.  

On the way out, a young woman accosted me and got me to enter a prize draw for £100 and spin a wheel whereupon I scored another free cake!  I saw my neighbour again on the way back and informed her I had got two free cakes and  told her to send her husband back out.  

10.       Dangerous Trolley Driving

A few weeks ago, I was doing my normal weekly shop in the co-op.  I had my phone in one hand so I could consult my list, whilst steering the trolley carefully with my other hand.  I moved slowly to avoid any mishaps. 

As I was about to turn up the last aisle, a woman came rushing towards me in the opposite direction.  She had no basket; instead, both her hands were full of groceries.  As she rounded the corner, she came to a dead stop in front of my trolley.  I smiled at her in a friendly fashion. 

“Ooh! Dangerous trolley driving!” she exclaimed in a patronising tone.

I was gob-smacked that she should speak to another adult in this fashion.  I told her to eff off but she didn’t hear me (probably a good thing as it might have got nasty).  

When I related the incident to a friend, she said “I bet she was a school teacher.”  I agreed that thought had also occurred to me.  Still no excuse though.

9.       The Bacup Cult

At a recent visit to the co-op, the young cashier was serving a young woman at the till.  Apparently, a mutual school friend had converted to Islam.  

“She sent my mum a photo of herself in all her Eid gear.”  The cashier reported.   “She’s living with a ‘converted family’ in Bacup”.  

The woman being served said “Oh no! I hope she’s alright.  It’s hard to get out of that.  It’s like a cult”.   

Unable to keep quiet any longer, I interjected: “Islam is a religion not a cult”.  

They both looked at me doubtfully and one of them said: “It depends. You don’t know who’s got them into it.”  

“Yes,  that’s right”, I said “She’ll be off to Syria next...”