Shop Soiled: Us and Them.
Since the dawn of time (between nine and five thirty, late night fighting on Thursdays) a war has been fought. Where there are people selling, there are people buying. But law has decreed that these two sets of people will seldom see eye to eye so there must be constant conflict in the arena that is the shop. And like all wars there will be no winners, just bloodied corpses and shattered, hollow victors. Retail Wars. (Available soon on PS3 and XBox 360.)
Unfortunately, life in the trench of retail is far from ideal. We not only have to deal with constant barrages from the customers as they find other new and terrifying angles to assault us from, we have directives from head office who are safely ensconced in their ivory tower. There, they do everything in their power to help the customers. That is to help the customers find ways to attack us and make our lives hell. For instance: we will frequently have offers on books stating that there is up to half price on our top thirty hardbacks. However, the words ‘up to’ will be rendered so miniscule so as to be nearly invisible to the naked eye. Cue a nice huffy complaint every twenty minutes from a disatisfied customer demanding they get the latest Bernard Cornwell for next to nothing. Then there will be the one hardback in the chart that has no discount at all. This happened to me last week when an irate old biddy pulled one of only three non discounted books from the chart and demanded that she get it for half price. I told her that it wasn’t half price and by law only seventy five percent of offer stock has to be discounted. Huge strop follows at me (because obviously it’s me that sets the prices for our nationwide business outlets) as the customer tears at my heart with those doom laden, terrifying words:
‘I shan’t be coming back in here again.’
At that moment I ask myself, my heart shuddering and a look of astonished disbelief etching itself across my face, what now? How can it be that the world still turns, people celebrate birthdays and do things like sing or whistle when such loss occurs? The weird thing is that they think I should care. They think that the searing rejection they have just spouted is going to affect my life and that of the company. The lady then walks off with an air of smug accomplishment. The great thing is that she thought she had won. No dear, I win. I don’t have to listen to your plaintive wailing ever again over such piffles, I still get paid and you’re stuck next time you want a convenient place to buy your Daily Mail because you’ve boycotted the only store in the high street that sells it. You’ve made your bed, dear, and you’ve wet it.
Other customers will try to win the battle betwixt retailer and shopper by using the failure proof method of sheer idiocy. There’s a three for two offer paperbacks so why not ask the shop keeper if that means they have to buy three of the same book? When an offer informs that it’s three for two on all books why not pick up a random book and ask ‘does it include this one?’ There are stand out winners in the thick customers department though, and they are our most ubiquitous member of modern society: The Chav.
There has never been more unnatural pairing in the world than a chav and a bookshop. Chavs very rarely venture into bookshops because there is nothing for them there. They don’t like books and they don’t know anyone except their probation officer that reads so there isn’t even any point shop lifting books because what can you do with them? Most of them aren’t even heavy enough to break car windows with. However, there will be occasions when our feral brethren will venture into the world of print. The main reason is when that esteemed literary genius Katie Price has a new novel out. This will prompt a few overweight chav girls to drag their boyfriends into the book department, to shout at you demanding the new Jordan book which they can’t find even though they’ve looked under b (for book) on the shelf. The one other reason chavs venture in is if Jade Goody has died and there has been a quickly released biography that cashes in on her tragic end. I actually caught a chav nicking this on the day of release though. I didn’t know true sadness until that day. Except the day that I overheard a couple of thick chavs approach the graphic novels section wondering if that meant they were sex books.
At the moment there is one cast iron way to annoy this particular bookseller which involves minimal effort: walk to the till and buy a copy of Dan Brown’s ‘The Lost Symbol’. Double the effect by asking if it has come out in paperback and you get full marks and get to see my ears go red to boot. Try it today, you can always get a refund when you realise your terrible mistake.
