Moonlight madness

One of our night-shift people has handed in their notice already. Part of me is amazed it has taken this long for someone to bail out, part of me is disappointed as it’s the first member of staff I’ve lost. You can’t blame them, though. I used to hate doing overnight stuff when I was in the supermarket proper. It messes with your mind, your body and your personality. The only people I met who could cope with working through the darkness were people who already had a certain kind of disturbance within them. And at least those who were working in overnight stock replenishment within the store were part of a team and had a few kindred spirits to share the pain with. Our poor saps are sitting on their own in a bullet-proof booth for ten hours; their only contact with others coming via a small intercom system hidden inside the spit shield. They get to spend more than half their waking hours trapped in a tiny area surrounded by chewing gum and a till, with the only view being a dimly-lit forecourt at which 12 separate fuel pumps sit idly awaiting the arrival of petrol-hungry customers who only actually roll up once every three hours. On the rare occasions each night when someone does turn into the garage they tend to be lonely drivers who are desperate for conversation, but so used to being on their own in their world of travelling that they can’t utter much beyond “Pump 7 please. And can I have a Bounty?”
Do let me know if you’re looking for a job….

RC 9-8-17