What you discover about the human race when you work in Waitrose
Take your agave nectar and go
Supermarket assistants, the heroes of modern day. We not only have to consistently deal with the turmoil of spillages and unfortunate uniforms but also the wrath of miserable and albeit, rather obtuse customers.
Having to politely nod and respond through gritted teeth, ignoring the violent thoughts that begin to protrude our mind is extremely strenuous, draining us mentally and physically. Sure, we probably get paid more than our pals at Saino’s, and the discounts are always amicably welcomed, but working in ‘trose is a whole different ballgame, especially when it comes to obscure products and pretentious customers.
As staff, you’re always in the wrong
“Um, excuse me but why is my attempt at using contactless for a £120 shop being declined? I’m insistent that my bank increased my contactless limit and it’s most definitely your card machine that’s the problem, fix it.” Ok give me a mo whilst I fetch the sonic screwdriver from the cash office.
Customers will come in five minutes before close
And attempt a weekly shop while we subtly glare at them. They’re the same customers who will proceed to act like a stroppy child when we inform them that sadly we have closed the coffee machines for the day.
Some customers aren’t just picky, they are plain unreasonable
“How dare you imply that blinis are a suitable replacement for mini galettes. You simply wouldn’t understand the lack of je ne sais quoi. My dinner party is going to be an absolute humiliation. Thanks to you!” Oh, How ever will I sleep tonight?
The customers who treat free tasters as their dinner
Don’t get me wrong, please do help yourself to a lovely little taster of our seasonal delights, but don’t keep reappearing every other minute in hopes that I’ve forgotten you’d already taken four samples on your first round.
No, you cannot bring your trolley through the ‘basket only’ tills
Is your self-importance impeding your hearing?
People will try and scam you once in a while
Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. You immediately knew when someone was trying to pull the wool over your eyes and swindle you for that extra £20 after learning the hard way. They’d only ever spend 85p on essential jam tarts, flustering you with their over-friendliness and confidence, then would begin sweating, swearing and stammering profusely when you politely refused to continue exchanging their notes and coins. We call that due dilligence. Next customer, please.
“Do I have to pay for the bag? If so, I don’t want one”
Ok hun well you know you gotta pay for ‘em and I’m not going to offer you one for free so have fun carrying your coulis.
The customers who saunter up to your till with their headphones in or on a phone call
Understandably, the latter isn’t always avoidable, but when you tut at us when we ask if you’d like a bag, it’s just rude. We’re doing our job and assisting you. If you rather we didn’t, we’ll happily direct you to the self-checkouts (they’re card only tho, soz).
Lovely elderly customers who could talk for Britain
Having brief chats with customers is always good, but not when there’s a queue of six people and a spillage in the fruit preserves aisle.
Customers will hassle you for reductions at any point in the day
“Yes this spatchcock poussin expires in two days. Your manager said you’d be able to reduce it for me.” Firstly, I’m not on the operations team, so unfortunately I cannot reduce your item and secondly, we can sniff out a liar from the moment your foot steps into the store. Try Asda.
“Oh, my item isn’t scanning? Guess it must be free then, haha!”
Customers will ask for the most obscure items
And they genuinely expect you to immediately know what they’re talking about. I’ve been pronouncing physalis entirely wrong this whole time.
“This bottle of peach puree 8p cheaper in Tesco!”
…There’s a Tesco fifty yards away.