Thursday, 17 December 2009

Life in the fast lane

Ok, I should explain my title. I work as a cashier at a major grocery-store chain here in Australia. In this job, I interact with a lot of very interesting (and uninteresting) characters.

I hate my job. We'll clear that up right now. I absolutely can not stand my job, and the only reason I've got it because money is kind of a necessity. Cue long-suffering sigh.

I deal with a lot of annoying people. But the bitches and the shitheads (excuse the French (on a side note, when the French swear, do they say "excuse the English"?)) are nowhere near annoying as one particular breed of customer. This breed is nowhere near as rare as it should be, and I vote we hunt it to extinction. This breed is the epitome of a cashier's worst nightmare, with the most annoying tendencies known to man.

The breed I am referring to?

The Money Scrunchers.


Y'know those people who hand over a wad of notes? Not nice, flat notes. Screwed up, folded and otherwise mutilated notes. Do you have any idea how horrible it is trying to sit them neatly in a till? It doesn't work! It gets all messy, and icky, and and and.... ARGH!

*deep breath*

Ok, that's enough. I promised Mire I would finish that story for her...

1 comment:

Mireyah Wolfe said...

I hereby vow to try and remember to UNmutilate my money before handing it to the cashier from now on.

GO WRITE....when you wake up. Stupid time zones.