Right, I've just come back from my local shop. It has two tills, which for a small village would seem perfectly adaquate. And to be fair, usually is.
Except this afternoon, when all I wanted was a pint of semi-skimmed, I experienced the "Costcutter" equivilant of A Perfect Storm. At one till was an old biddy spilling all her small change on the counter to find EXACTLY the right combination of coins to settle a bill of just over £4 - even though she had a wad of perfectly acceptable fivers in her other hand. Now, in my book that's just f***ing RUDE!
Meanwhile, over at the other till was a middle aged woman who's bill was something like £12:42, or whatever. BUT instead of just handing over fifteen quid and simply pocketing the change - yes, you've already guessed - she uttered the dreaded words, "Oh, I've got the 42 somewhere", before spending an age scrummaging about for 2x20p and 1x2p it in the bottom of her f***ing purse.
Meanwhile, the queue for both tills stretches back to somewhere in the dairy aisle
Except this afternoon, when all I wanted was a pint of semi-skimmed, I experienced the "Costcutter" equivilant of A Perfect Storm. At one till was an old biddy spilling all her small change on the counter to find EXACTLY the right combination of coins to settle a bill of just over £4 - even though she had a wad of perfectly acceptable fivers in her other hand. Now, in my book that's just f***ing RUDE!
Meanwhile, over at the other till was a middle aged woman who's bill was something like £12:42, or whatever. BUT instead of just handing over fifteen quid and simply pocketing the change - yes, you've already guessed - she uttered the dreaded words, "Oh, I've got the 42 somewhere", before spending an age scrummaging about for 2x20p and 1x2p it in the bottom of her f***ing purse.
Meanwhile, the queue for both tills stretches back to somewhere in the dairy aisle
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