Newsagent State of Mind Part 6

The English trolley dolly is looking filthier than ever, the Pakistani Mafia continue to annoy and the Algerian just won't let the hilarious nickname drop...
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The English trolley dolly is looking filthier than ever, the Pakistani Mafia continue to annoy and the Algerian just won't let the hilarious nickname drop...

Saturday 31st July 2010.4pm-10pm

After guzzling a can of Red Bull I strolled into the big unit for another shift at the PLC. The Pakistani mafia were present but subdued. The reason being because the Polish Muslim and the anorexic graduate are on annual leave so they don't have any gangster's molls to show off to.

The Romeo arrived at 5pm and I said to him "Ok, lets see how far we can go with the female punters".

He laughed heartily and we set to work. Without having a laugh it would be mind numbingly boring. The staffing levels didn't seem too bad today and the trouble-shooter told me that its the first time he's seen cost cutting on this scale since he joined 2 years ago.

The Romeo is ugly but that is what makes the women fall at his feet. His chutzpah takes them by surprise and they start blushing.

3 blondes approached his till, a MILF with 2 daughters. The mum was very attractive about 40-45 and well toned with a wedding ring.

"Where do you come from ladies?” he asked in his heavy French accent.

"Great Yarmouth" the mum replied.

"What country is that?" he ventured.

"England"

"Has anyone ever told you your smile is beautiful?" he asked

"Thank you" the mum blushed

"You have already broken my heart madam" he continued

"You're making me blush" she added

"When I make love my heart beats with excitement" he dared

Before I had time to settle down Gay Boy was sharing his weekend's drug taking experiences at an illegal rave in Boston Manor.

This is an example of the Romeo in action. When they buy TPS he lets out a squeal of excitement and thanks them whole heartedly because he knows his league performance will improve.

Of course, this spurs me on and I found myself asking a slim Pole with Sarah Plain glasses, “Do you have any plans tonight?"

"I'm going to a BBQ tonight" she replied as she walked off with a wiggle of her bottom.

Basically, women respond to flattery in a big way. It’s a shame I didn't know this before I was married. All ages, shapes and sizes like to feel wanted. I even managed to sell a box of teacakes to a teenage Mademoiselle just because I asked her name in French.

The time flew by and the Pakistani mafia were talking cricket to me all evening. They all play friendlies and I reckon some of them are quite useful.

The Krispy Kreme doughnuts always sell well at the weekend with punters letting their hair down. A well-built and well-heeled Eastern Bloc lady purchased 2 boxes of them but we don't have the standard issue carrier bags to put them in. She had luggage as well as a giant handbag so was fuming. However, I spoke some pigeon Polish and she went on her way.

Towards the end of the evening you get drunk punters and drugged up punters and it can be very amusing. I spent the last 2 hours replenishing the fridges ready for tomorrow's staff.

Monday August 2nd 2010.6am - 2pm

Cheated on my way in to work by catching a bus half way. I was just too tired after yesterday's cricket and a late meal with my son at The Bengal Lancer.

It's starting to get darker in the mornings which means that summer is already drawing to a close.

Some of the Pakistani mafia were on the early shift today along with the Algerian albino, French Queen, dense Somalia and The Algerian.

I somehow ended up dealing with the newspapers which involves counting them and placing them on the relevant racks. Once they are counted the number of copies are recorded and this information is given to The Algerian and this sheet is known as a "Blind Copy".

The big unit opens at 7am at which time I was joined by the Cockney Scrubber. We actually work very well together and when she starts getting bolshie I slap her down by calling her "Boss”. She hates this because she knows I’m taking the piss out of her controlling behaviour.

Once again it was relentless and at times bordering on insanity.2 employees have to keep a huge retail unit running smoothly and replenishing stock as well as maintaining customer service. The King's assistant is on leave for 3 weeks and the gossip is that the operations manager is on sick leave caused by stress in the workplace.

So, the King returned after 2 weeks leave and his complete lack of respect for his staff hasn't diminished. I must have walked past him at least 4 times and he didn't even acknowledge me, not so much as a nod of the head.

It brought back memories of when it all started in 1989. He took acid for the first time at the rave and came to work still tripping. I related to that.

At one point I was with the French queen in the stock room and he didn't even communicate with him and he's been at the PLC 2 years. I have never come across someone in a position of authority show such lack of respect for his workers as this bloke. No wonder motivation in this place is on the floor.

Bollywood phoned in sick which means that they are 1 down in the big unit when I leave at 2pm.I was hoping to see the flat chested blonde today but there was no sign of her.

The Cockney Scrubber and I ploughed on regardless and did a very good job dealing with the vast numbers of punters and keeping our head above water.

My French is improving and there were the usual bevy of attractive French females and the usual mixture of moody English women who refused to enter into conversations.

Another crazy part of this job is that some customers blame us for being late for their trains. They turn aggressive in the queue and start looking at their watches. When they arrive at the till they avoid eye contact and punch their pin numbers furiously into the machine. Sometimes they might say, “I haven't got time for this, I have a train to catch".

The early shifts fly by and before I knew it, 2pm was here and out I went into the daylight.

Wednesday 4th August 2010.6am - 2pm

Back on the early shift after a splendid game of cricket in deepest Essex yesterday washed down in the local pub with a steak and a victory in the pub quiz.

Before i had time to settle down Gay Boy was sharing his weekend's drug taking experiences at an illegal rave in Boston Manor.

It brought back memories of when it all started in 1989. He took acid for the first time at the rave and came to work still tripping. I related to that.

I had an hour with the French queen and was feeling the effects of 4 hours sleep. I decided to play a game today. A game to see how well mannered people are on a Monday morning at 6am.

The proliferation of personal stereos and IPods has destroyed conversation in public places.

There was an elderly woman who purchased the Guardian. I did my usual "hello, how are you today?" and at first there was no response. I tried again and still no response, maybe she was mutton Geoff. On the third go she grunted "hello" and slapped the money on the counter and walked off looking very angry.

I have established that I must be less confrontational early in the morning because most punters are still recovering from the weekend's frivolities. However, there are punters who are bang on the money from 6am.They are smartly dressed and completely focused on the day ahead and are alert enough to talk.

I was summoned to go to the small unit, which everyone detests. The Algerian had very slyly moved his albino mate downstairs and shoved me into the isolated unit. He probably got the Albino his job but its still unfair.

I was bored out of my mind, and that combined with tiredness was a real struggle. The portly Sri Lankan night supervisor talked cricket with me in between the gaps in business.

I have noticed that nearly all English women of a certain class always say "Hi yaw".

My mother in law also says it and it has to be the most annoying expression I’ve come across.

The quality of the women was exceptional today. Most of them were going to Paris with their partners but that didn't hold me back.

The offenders are normally women aged between 18 and 35 and probably come from the North of England. They aren't lookers and would be classified as lower-middle class.

As I was leaving I met Bollywood coming out of the female toilets wearing a very fetching standard issue pink T-shirt. She was concerned that it didn't suit her but I re-assured her that it showed off her great figure. She smiled and went red.

The cockney scrubber had stupidly volunteered to complete the book change over before she left and the King had given her 2 more skips to deal with.

When I left the unit she was cursing under her breath and her hair had fallen all over her face.

Thursday 5th August 2010.6am - 2pm

6 hours sleep, alarm at 4.45am and arrived at 5.50am.Starbucks was already open, so had a warm "hot" chocolate and asked the Sri Lankan cricketer if I could work anywhere but the upstairs unit.

My wishes were granted and I joined the thick Somalian at 6am.He disappeared to complete the paper distribution and I was left to hold the fort.

I was on fire today and I needed to be. The phone went at 7.30am and it was the Algerian, “Your TPS was very poor mate only 1.1%,” he said.

"I only had mint Aeros to sell, no £1 stickers and no-one buys chocolate at 6am" I replied.

A silence took place and the phone call was terminated abruptly.

The TPS was buzzing; the promotions were Skittles, Starbursts, all flavours of Galaxy and some dodgy chewing gum.

The quality of the women was exceptional today. Most of them were going to Paris with their partners but that didn't hold me back. I look at their fingers for wedding rings and plan my attack accordingly.

There was a very attractive English woman of about 30 who was smiling at me in the queue and that's like a red rag to a bull for me. I immediately collared her and she was off to visit her parents at their farm in Northampton on her own.

It’s sad that we have the highest proportion of single over 30s in Europe. Lots of the female punters are happy going away with their girlfriends and don't even seem interested in finding a boyfriend. Of course I am carrying out vital research in the name of improving our society.

By now slow boy was on the scene talking complete gibberish as usual. The amount of time he takes to complete the replenishment process is ridiculous.

Some impressive flirting took place in the lunchtime session including a large blonde female from Leeds in her early 20's.

The process involves making a thorough list of items required and then going to the stock room and filling a cage with the items. He then has to wheel the cage back to our unit and distribute the items in the correct positions. He may also have to insert new price slips under the products on the shelves. Whilst all this is going on he may have to jump onto a till to assist me with thirsty news hungry punters.

The Daily Mail readers are interesting because they are all the same age and have the same colour hair and even dress the same.

The English trolley dolly with French Glamour appeared out of nowhere, it was like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

She had purple nail varnish and was looking as dirty as she had all those weeks ago.

"Long time no see, where have you been?" I started.

"They sent me to Ashford but I’m back now, have you missed me?" she replied with a toothy grin and a husky voice.

"Are you back here for good?" I enquired.

"Yes, and I’m working a 12 hour shift today" she continued

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"Wood Green and you?" she answered,

"I live close to here...." I said.

Off she went with her cigarettes and Lipton Iced Tea.

Rasta boy arrived at 12 and I haven't worked with him for ages. He is becoming increasingly lazy and slapdash in his work. He needs to find direction because he's going nowhere fast. We had a laugh and he said, “The only 2 people I like working with are you and the Romeo, you guys crack me up innit".

He is 26 and living at home and has no hope of getting his own place and this is beginning to affect his state of mind.

Some impressive flirting took place in the lunchtime session including a large blonde female from Leeds in her early 20's.I've noticed with all these large women that they have pleasant boat races and if they lost a few stone in weight they would have men falling over themselves.

I tidied up the whole back area behind the tills even though I know within 2 days it will be untidy again. The Algerian started calling me "The Englishman" again and kept on telling me I looked tired.

Its a fair point, I’m not used to these early shifts. The fat Indian bird is leaving at the end of the month to go back to India. She’s completed her MBA and her Dad has arranged an interview with a global shipping company. Good luck to her I thought and walked off via the shop that the flat chested blonde works in.

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