- Diary of a temporary Tesco worker. Day 6. Archived Message
Posted by Des Jnr
on 25/3/2020, 9:56 pm
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My walk home from work at 11 o’clock last night was quite spooky. Literally nobody at all on the streets, but loads of police cars driving around, obviously checking up on everything. I pretended I was Cillian Murphy in 28 Days Later, and that flesh-eating zombies might come crawling out of Primark or Greggs at any moment to eat me. Didn’t see any, though. It’s a pretty boring 15 minute walk home, got to do something to pass the time. Can’t exactly walk down the high street having a wank, even if the streets are deserted. Work started with a meeting where we were told to expect a full lockdown in the next few days. As measures are ramped up, we’re putting staff on the doors to control the flow of customers. The hardest lad in Tesco is definitely getting that job isn’t he? Looking forward to saying things like “Sorry Grandma, not today love” and bodyslamming any unruly customers to the ground. I’ll act tough, until a load of teenagers from Blacon turn up trying to get in, at which point I’ll run off and hide in a cardboard trolley. Had a guy asking me if we had any flour, because he wanted to make pancakes. The only one we had was a little bag of self-raising flour (which I’m sure you can use to make pancakes can’t you?) but he actually got quite upset, saying: “No that isn’t the right one.” I was gonna point out that Shrove Tuesday isn’t for another 11 months but I thought this pancake-obsessive might have gone and chucked himself off a bridge. Fart Boy is having a house party on Saturday night! Do I do the right thing, follow Boris’s advice and stay at home, or head out to what could be the social event of the century. This is possibly the toughest decision I’ve ever had in my life. He’s got a house with his girlfriend and kid, but for the time being he’s got a flat as well as it’s on a long lease, so he’s basically sticking two fingers up at the world and inviting everyone round this weekend. He’s charging £5 to get in (cheeky bastard, I’ve got into strip clubs for less) and £2 a can. I’d actually consider taking a bout of Coronavirus on the chin to experience one of his house parties. Liverpool fans need to stop complaining, just because their plans to celebrate a first Premier League title in 30 years are on hold for a while. Other people are going through much, much worse at the moment, who we need to care for and look after. That’s right, the Tesco Chester Pool Tournament has been suspended at the Quarter Final stage. Came in to find all the pool cues removed this morning, and a sign on the pool table saying ‘Temporarily out of use’. I’m still adamant this has happened after I smashed the young lad (4 red balls remaining) last night, but it is due to the virus apparently. We can do nine hour shifts together in a confined space all day, but a quick game of pool is too risky. It’s political correctness gone mad. Fart Boy has a new career in mind after Tesco. He wants to be a paramedic. “I want to go and give people mouth to mouth,” he said. #### me. Honest to God, if I’m ever in a horrific car crash with my leg hanging off, and he turns up, just whack a DO NOT RESUSCITATE on my forehead. Saw a sign at work today that said: “Be alert. If you see anyone you don’t know, ask them who they are and what they are doing.” My productivity took a nosedive after that. Janice said she was shopping. Terry said he was shopping. Barbara said she was shopping. George said he was shopping. Linda said she was shopping. Barry said he was shopping. I’ve not managed to get any work done all day. Debated what sort of people buy a £20 jar of honey (which we have in store) today. I agreed with Fart Boy when he said: “Some people have more money than sense.” He then tickled me when he said: “My drug dealer doesn’t even charge me that.” A lady asked me for a tin of Stewing Steak. She wanted quite a nice one, but all we had left was Tesco’s own brand. “Oh, I don’t want that cheap one,” she said. Fart Boy came up and said: “I don’t blame you. It’ll be full of shit that. No meat in them.” This lad has got to be a secret rogue operative from Asda or something. Day 7 tomorrow. |