Checkout (9 page)

 The first day of the sales: an important event in the life of the organised consumer who wouldn't miss it for anything. And also for the checkout girl (even a blasé one). It is a new opportunity to delight in being at work and not on holiday on a desert island.

8.25 a.m.: The Opening Time couples, the morning crazies, the Bargain Hunters and ‘all the rest' can be counted in their dozens. Never before will you have felt so strongly that war has been declared or, if you watch too many horror films, that zombies are attacking.

There won't be enough to go round today so have no pity! No scruples about shooting people killer looks,
pushing and walking over one another without apology (don't leave your feet lying around all over the place then!), being rude to each other (me first!), growling (is there a dog here?), using trolleys like assault tanks – and good for you if you run over someone's foot (fewer competitors).

8.55 a.m.: You arrive at your till and swallow a yawn. You anxiously observe these dogged customers and prepare yourself psychologically for their relentless consumerism. It's going to be a busy day.

9 a.m.: The wild animals are let loose. May the best (or the most aggressive) win!

Everyone heads for the technology aisle to get a good deal on a flat-screen TV. The people who came the day before to do some research are the first ones there. Too heavy?

‘Never mind. Sit on it, darling, while I go and pay for it. And bite or hit anyone who tries to take it!'

The DVD players are also going like hot cakes.

‘£30? A bargain! I'll take the last three.'

‘They don't have the remote control. You can't navigate through the menus of your DVDs without it.'

‘Never mind, a bargain is a bargain.'

And the clothing aisle, so lovingly organised by the employees before opening time, has become a real battleground in barely quarter of an hour. Has a customer found the
very
dress she was looking for? She has grabbed it out of the hands of another girl who had just taken it off its hanger, knocking over a pile of jumpers in the process. Never mind, it is the
very
dress she was looking for. She beams a winner's smile and continues her search in the aisle. But suddenly, what has she seen just over there? The
actual very
dress she was looking for. What should she do? Drop the first one on the floor like an old cloth. The sales assistants can pick it up. That's what they're paid for. And grab the
actual, very, only
dress she ever wanted. Is it much too small?

‘Never mind, I'll go on a diet tomorrow.'

Further along, a customer has grabbed the woollen sock of his dreams, green with nice sprawling octopuses. Is the other one missing?

‘Never mind, I'll upend the box to find it. Too bad if most of it goes on the floor. It will be easier for other customers to find what they want. Are people walking all over the socks? Who cares?'

9.10 a.m.: Over to you, dear checkout girl. It's an emotional moment, the first compulsive shoppers at the till. You will be surprised (even if nothing surprises you
now) at the number of items sold by your store, items of whose existence you were not even aware (even though you've been working there for several years). It's a parade of unsold and unsellable, useless items. The waltz of the sales
beeeep
begins.

Sometimes, a little lucidity (what am I actually going to use that for?) or guilty conscience (I'm already £800 overdrawn) or both will make customers abandon some of their great bargains at the last minute. So don't grumble if you find barometers in the shape of rolling pins, solar alarm clocks (without batteries), enormous cow-shaped slippers (with udders), granny knickers and shovels without handles in the chewing-gum display at the end of your till. After your day's work go and put them back in their aisles ready for the next sales. It's a chance to stretch your legs after a whole day sitting at your till.

And more than any other day you will feel that you have become a refuse collector. Most of your customers will confuse your conveyor belt with a bin and literally upend their trolley or basket. It's your job to take each item and sort through their mountain of bargains as quickly as possible. Few customers bother with politeness – too much of an effort for today. Luckily, you might be able to count on your friend, the conveyor belt. Its jolts will make the pile of garden gnomes, flower-pot holders
and planting trays fall over and will easily swallow a few little pairs of knickers and some T-shirt sleeves (oh bother, it's all ripped and it was the last one too).

You are well trained but be prepared to see the same scenes over and over again throughout the day:

‘Is that the reduced price? I think it's a bit expensive!'

‘Yes. I check each time that you have been given the reduction.'

‘The price isn't on it but it was £1.'

‘I'll call to check.'

‘If you must! But you're making me late.'

An aisle assistant arrives with the actual price: £15.

‘Really? As much as that? That's not what I saw. I don't want it.'

You will also have to call your supervisor (with a smile and in good humour) at least twenty times to cancel purchases. Some customers will have been a bit too quick to believe that the sales won't actually cost them anything. Apart from misers, it's not the wealthiest people who come that day. Wealthy people don't need to shop in the sales. It's those on low and middle incomes who come to exact their revenge for the normally high prices and to
prove that they too have the right to consume. The sales are a good way of making people who don't actually have any money spend it anyway.

The first day of the sales is an ideal opportunity to get a good look at the personality of the twenty-first-century consumer. It is an exceptional day that any checkout girl worthy of the name must experience at least once in her life (and more if you enjoy it). And if some of the complexities escape you on the first day, you have six weeks to get to grips with it. The twenty-first-century consumer will no longer hold any secrets for you.

Have you missed the sales period? Don't worry! After that there are special offers, stock clearances and other one-off sales. The year will be full of bargains!

Do you still want some excitement? Have you been hoping to show the world that checkout girls can still be their own person, or nearly? With a good dose of self-sacrifice and a bit of luck you could experience this kind of situation.

It’s Saturday afternoon, it’s raining and there are lots of people hanging around the store. I am standing in for a colleague at the vouchers desk (yes, another post checkout girls can find themselves occupying). A man arrives in a suit and tie. He buys about ten vouchers. We chat for a few minutes while I process his request and print his vouchers. When the time comes to ask him how he wants to pay, he gets out his cheque book. I have to tell him, ‘I’m sorry but you can’t pay for vouchers by cheque.’ I
show him the notice on the counter indicating the accepted payment methods. ‘See, says so there.’

‘But no one told me before!’ he retorts.

Having experienced this kind of misunderstanding before (it happens a lot) and in order to calm things down quickly, you phone the Office to ask for confirmation. The customer can then see that you’re not talking rubbish (after all, you’re just a checkout girl).

So I call the Office and ask, ‘You can’t pay for vouchers by cheque, can you?’

‘No, you can’t,’ comes the reply.

I hang up the phone and turn to the customer, repeating (yes, sometimes you turn into a parrot) that no, you can’t pay by cheque. He won’t drop it though.

‘Call your supervisor, I want to see her.’

‘Of course, I’ll ask her to come.’

I pick up the phone again. ‘It’s me again. Could you come and explain to the customer why he can’t pay by cheque?’

And at the end of the line I hear an apologetic voice: ‘No, that’s not possible at the moment, I’m on my own here and the boss is already sorting out a problem at the till. You’ll have to deal with it.’

Irritated voice: ‘Oh … I’ll see what I can do.’

I hang up and turn to the customer, attempting to smile.

‘Sorry, but my supervisor is already busy with a customer. She can’t come and talk to you.’

The customer goes very red. He starts shouting (so that everyone can enjoy the situation, how generous of him) and gesticulating. Although I try to remain unruffled, I also end up raising my voice because by now I’ve had enough.

We are apparently here to serve.

We have to show them respect.

But being shouted at for something you can’t change and you can’t control, no …

Suddenly we are into a nice argument. He shouts. So do I. He yells. Customers covertly approach so they don’t miss anything. A show – how exciting! … Well, it’s not every day that you hear a checkout girl and a customer arguing at full pitch!

Our ‘discussion’ is doomed to failure though, since neither of us will give in. After several unpleasant minutes (shouting is fun in a football stadium but not so much at the till) I notice an aisle supervisor out of the corner of my eye. What luck! Given the noise, he must have heard. He’ll definitely come over and calm things down. But my hope is short-lived. He acts as if nothing has happened and changes aisle …

The customer finally gets out his bank card. With an abrupt gesture he flings it at me. It falls on the floor. That makes me even more annoyed but I pick up his card, give it to him and say calmly, ‘Sir, I refuse to serve you. You’ve gone too far and I won’t be treated like that!’

‘…’

The argument ends abruptly. The man apologises, pays for his vouchers and leaves.

Ten minutes later one of the girls from the Office finally arrives. She has come to see whether I have been able to handle the argument. I describe the brawl and she tells me, ‘Go and take your break. Someone will replace you.’

Do you need the support of a superior?
The number you
have rung is not available
.

Are you sure that you are handling a situation properly?
Careful, you are only a checkout girl
.

Do you want to serve people?
I repeat, you are only a
checkout girl
.

And the moral of the story? A few days later the rules are changed. You can now pay by cheque. OK, it’s not exactly a moral but why should there be one?

Ah, Christmas! A period of festivity and sharing? Frankly for you, dear checkout girl, 24 December involves exactly the same stress as the first day of the sales. It’s all about quick execution, increased scanning, big crowds, grumbling customers, empty aisles, compulsive shopping, even more impatience than usual …

Welcome to the spirit of Christmas! I know, it’s horrible but if you really want to enjoy the season to be jolly, avoid this job.

24 December, morning. The same old story. War has just broken out and the zombies are attacking. Customers are buzzing like flies in front of the store doors (which open at 8.30 instead of 9 a.m., an important distinction).

With the same fear of missing out, they leap not on the technology and clothes aisles but the fish/meat/dessert aisles. They’re stocking up for the big blow-out tomorrow. But you will feel the same aggressive atmosphere as at sale time. Perhaps it’s a foretaste of the dyspepsia to come.

‘It’s a shame we can’t serve ourselves. We’d have the turkey, sausages, smoked salmon, bacon, beef and Christmas pudding in the trolley already and we wouldn’t have to yell at the idiot who pushed in front!’

From 9.15 a.m. onwards the same generalised chaos reigns in the aisles as at sale time. The sales assistants are on the verge of a nervous breakdown the same as at sale time. Not for the same reasons, it’s true. This time it’s because some customers can’t understand why the most popular toy of the moment might be out of stock on Christmas Eve and kick up a fuss (thirty-six of them simultaneously). Others only want to give big gifts (nice ones!) but for less than £5. Others still don’t have any idea what they want to give. It is up to the sales assistants to spend two hours looking for them (and they’d better find something good!). There are also those who arrive three minutes before closing and who still haven’t made their mind up, when the lights go out (darkness isn’t great for choosing what colour plates to buy).

And of course at the tills you find the same cordiality and politeness as normal but worse … Today truly there are only bad offers to be had. All the prices have gone up for the event. And it’s obviously your fault. So you can read in their furious glances: ‘You expect me to pay an arm and a leg, you don’t want a thank you as well surely!’ and/or ‘You’re not the one who has to cook this turkey so hurry up, you stupid bird.’

But don’t forget to keep smiling sincerely even when they shout at you for the fiftieth time that day because you can’t wrap presents or because you haven’t provided a nice piece of ribbon to hide the horrible colour of the packaging, which – what bad taste – includes the store’s logo! ‘It’s not very Christmassy, your hideous packaging!’

And you must wish them Merry Christmas and Happy New Year as you give them your nicest smile. And you will have to repeat at least 350 times, about five times more than normal, ‘Yes, I check each time that you have received the reduction.’

Actually, the comparison between Christmas and the sales is not accurate. The decorations (multicoloured tinsel and plastic Christmas trees vs special-offer posters screaming ‘50% off’) are quite different. You might be wearing a Father Christmas hat on 24 December. For the sales you will be wearing a goblin hat. In both cases though you
will look ridiculous (and the glamorous or grandma outfit won’t help …)

Another important difference to bear in mind is that on Christmas Eve your store will close at 7 p.m. instead of 10 p.m. (as it does on the first day of the sales). Yes, but you can be sure that you will be just as tired and at the end of your tether.

And when the doors finally close and you think that you can breathe again, don’t be surprised to see a frustrated consumer getting heated and yelling, ‘Let me in! I have to buy a present!’

‘We’re closed, madam,’ the security guard replies.

‘What? But that’s not possible, I can’t go home without a present!’

‘We’re closed, madam,’ he will repeat several times.

You are allowed to laugh (inside). If necessary, you can defend yourself by saying it was nervous laughter …

And don’t forget that most of the presents chosen with care, or not, by your customers will end up on websites at half price on Boxing Day … OK then, Christmas is a bit like the first day of the sales after all.

Happy Christmas, enjoy your supermarket dash and be sure to be up at the crack of dawn on Boxing Day to be first online for the best bargains …