Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces on life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too.
email@example.com & @JoeCushnan
In a large hypermarket, no two days are the same, and that can be both a good thing and a bad thing. Sometimes a manager just wants a quiet life but as soon as the doors open and customers arrive to shop, all bets are off. Thankfully, most customers are legal, decent, honest and truthful and just get on with their shopping, but every now and again, something happens and a customer tries it on, thinking that he or she can make a bit of money on the sly.
One day I was called to the customer service desk to speak to a young man. As I approached, I could see that he was not happy about something or other. He told me – and I have not changed his words - that as he was walking down one of the aisles in the shop, a bottle of bleach just jumped off the shelf and splashed all over his leather jacket. He actually said the bottle of bleach had jumped off the shelf. I mustered all of my professionalism and good manners and apologised, but on inspection of his jacket, I explained that most of the wear and tear could not have been caused by the alleged incident. He left unhappy, but without a penny, a chancer who took a chance and failed.
As incidents like this are always worth following up, like a good battle-worn manager who has gone a little stir-crazy, I went to the aisle and gave all of the bleach bottles a good talking to, but rather like the man with the leather jacket, some of the bleach was too thick to take it in.