I had to cover for another managers sickness today. I’ve done it before, but not without prior warning, and never in a non-food department. Today I got lumbered with ‘Womens and Childrens Clothing’ and I can honestly say the only word in that department title I have a clue about is the word ’and’
I felt more out of my depth than a midget in the Marianas Trench.
I was asked to measure a pensioners bra size (which I declined to do), to give a refund on a dress ‘that didn’t fit when I got it home’ which had obviously been worn out to a party (which I also declined to do) and to help some fat bird choose some socks for her teenage daughters soccer team.
I have never known an eight-hour day to feel like eighteen months before, but blimey…
Next time Ginger Graham walks up to me and says “I wonder if you’d do me a favour” I’m going to scream and run away, or kill myself.
RC 10-6-14
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