STEPHEN BOYD - IRISH NEWS ARTICLE BY ANNE HAILE

Anne Haile wrote about film star Stephen Boyd in today's Irish News and highlighted my book, Stephen Boyd: From Belfast to Hollywood. Follow the link to find the article. 4 July, 2021, is the 90th anniversary of Stephen Boyd's birth. He died at 45.

https://www.irishnews.com/lifestyle/2021/03/15/news/anne-hailes-book-puts-hollywood-pin-up-stephen-boyd-back-on-the-map-2250489/

 

TALES FROM AISLE 13 - NO: 8 - (S)LIMEBALL

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              A short series from my days as a supermarket manager. 

All true but stretched for entertainment value.

 I was managing a food/non-food superstore and a customer asked to see me.  I found my way to the customer service desk and, although I am six feet tall, this guy seemed to tower above me.  His girth was wider than mine too and as I looked up at him I prayed that this was not going to end in tears - mine.

I stuck my hand out to shake his but he ignored it and started bawling: "Lime marmalade. You've got none."  I went through the motions of saying that I would check for him but he told me that someone had already been to the stock room. "Why haven't you got any?"  I told him I didn't know but I would find out and let him know by phone that afternoon. 

"What?" he bellowed, "I am not leaving this shop without lime marmalade."  

"But we haven't any in stock, sir." 

"Don't call me sir. Stop patronising me." 

  

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to patronise you. I apologise for not having lime marmalade in the store but I will have to contact the buying team in head office."

"Ridiculous," he shouted and with that he threw the empty hand basket he was carrying at me, told me to stuff the shop up my arse and stormed away.  The wire basket struck my chin but, heroically, I didn't wince.  

In a mid sigh as I watched him leave, I spotted that he had turned round and was heading back my way. "I'll be back tomorrow at 10 o'clock to buy a jar of Rose's lime marmalade and you better have it or I'll not be responsible for my actions."

He turned on his heels and walked briskly out of the door.  I sent someone out to a rival supermarket for a jar of lime marmalade and kept it locked in a drawer.  The next morning, the clock ticked in High Noon fashion. 10 o'clock, no customer. 10.15, no customer.  10.30, nope.  12.00, nada.  He didn't show up at all, ever again, to my knowledge.  

"What a (s)lime ball”, I thought, in a moment of retail blasphemy. 

People in shops have much to put up with day in, day out and, rather like me, heroically they take it on the chin. 

Like baskets, some customers are wired up!

TALES FROM AISLE 13 - NO: 7 - ATTACK OF THE BLEACH BOTTLE

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              A short series from my days as a supermarket manager. 

All true but stretched for entertainment value.

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.

TALES FROM AISLE 13 - NO: 6 - THE HIGH SCALLION JOB

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              A short series from my days as a supermarket manager. 

All true but stretched for entertainment value.

Customers come in all shapes and sizes, from all backgrounds, as do shoplifters.  A shop is a thieves’ paradise and professional bandits know all the tricks of the trade to confuse and distract, as they attempt to steal anything that is not nailed down.  They are a menace but the more inept thieves, the ones that have more than enough empty space between their ears, the ones that aimed low in life and missed, provide some light relief.  One day, we followed a man who was wearing a long overcoat.  It was one of the hottest days of the year and he looked as out of place as a kipper in a tap-dancing class.  By the fixed smile on his face and his glazed eyes, it was obvious that he had lunched recently with Jim Beam or Johnnie Walker.  He was high as a kite.  Slowly but surely, he walked around the shop putting various things into the pockets of his coat.  After about half an hour, as he was about to leave, we apprehended him and took him to the security office.

“Please empty your pockets,” I said.  “What pockets?” he slurred.

“The ones in your coat.”  “Oh, those pockets,” he chuckled. 

In a few minutes, the following items were displayed on the desk: a bottle of brandy, a packet of custard powder, two small tins of cat food, a bar of chocolate, a bag of sugar, a bottle of ketchup and a bunch of scallions.  The man was arrested and whiskeyed off to the police station, leaving us wondering if all the food and drink he had tried to nick had been intended for a romantic meal for two – or just a quiet night in with the cat.  Even with the scallions, he was more chump than champ. 

 

TALES FROM AISLE 13 - NO: 5 - HOW CURRY CAN BE A WORRY

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              A short series from my days as a supermarket manager. 

All true but stretched for entertainment value.

It is easy for customers to get hold of the wrong end of the stick, (or the twig, or the branch – all will become clear as this story unfolds).  I was having a coffee break one morning in my office, away from the shenanigans on the shop floor, when a young mother phoned to tell me that, in her words, there was a tree in her curry ready meal.  I sat in my office, phone to ear, quite shocked at this strange complaint but, like the TV cops of the 1950s, we managers are always trained to get the facts, Ma’am, just the facts.  But I couldn’t help but imagine a giant oak firmly embedded in amongst the chicken, peppers and curry sauce.

As I was concerned, I asked her to bring the offending meal back to the shop and she agreed to come in that very afternoon.  But as soon as I had put the phone down, I realised that I had not offered the services of a lumberjack and a large truck.  But, as it happened, none of that was necessary.  When she brought the curry meal in, I unwrapped it and found two bay leaves in the exotic mess.  I explained that bay leaves were there to help flavour the food and she reddened up and laughed.  “But it’s still part of a tree,” she said.  “Yes, it is,” I agreed, “but, thankfully, not the whole tree.”  She ignored me, accepted a refund and left the shop.  I thought about this complaint for a while and concluded that in this game, sometimes life is not fir, but we can all pine for a better fuchsia, and no matter what, it is important to curry favour with all customers when they korma round to my shop.

 

TALES FROM AISLE 13 - NO: 4 - FROM A BAGUETTE TO A BANQUETTE

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              A short series from my days as a supermarket manager. 

All true but stretched for entertainment value.

There is no one I know in the wild and wacky world of shops and shopping who believes that the customer is always right.  Those of us who have been managers for more years than we care to recall know that on many, many occasions, some customers play the game with common sense and fair play but a growing number can see ways to exploit the system and shout or needle their way to getting much, much more than a verbal apology for something that has gone wrong.  The man who explained to me that he had found a piece of metal in his bread stick looked upset, understandably.  The fact that he went on to say that the metal was in the very last nub end of the bread made me think that all was not how it seemed.  We managers are well trained to refer tricky matters like this to head office, for health and safety reasons of course, but also to pass the buck to someone else, if the truth were known.  Our head office team could not come up with any explanation regarding the metal, putting it down to a rare mistake at the bakery (but really thinking that this guy had put it there himself).  It was funny to me that he had gobbled all but the very last half inch of baguette.  However, in the interests of goodwill, they offered the man an apology and £20 of gift vouchers.  The man said he was not happy.  When asked what would make him happy, he said that he wanted twice the amount of vouchers and, I am not kidding here, a set of garden furniture.  Alas, I can report, dear customer, several years on that he got the vouchers but on what he sits to have his summer lunch in the garden, I neither know nor care.

 

TALES FROM AISLE 13 - NO: 3 - HOW THE JOHN WEST WAS WON

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              A short series from my days as a supermarket manager. All true but stretched for 

                                                         entertainment value.

Health and safety concerns have seeped into our heads, sometimes for good reason and other times causing overreaction.  One day, I was getting ready to go home after a long day, when I received a call from a man, clearly distraught.  His voice was a mixture of panic and anger.  He said that his family had eaten salmon sandwiches for their tea and his wife and son had found pieces of glass in amongst the fish.  I was taken aback.  This was a new one on me.  After he assured me that his family did not seem to be suffering from any ill affects at this stage, I offered to send someone round to his house to investigate.  But he declined, saying that he would bring the remainder of the sandwiches and a newly opened tin of salmon to the shop straight away.  I agreed to meet him.

At his request, we met in a private office and he produced the sandwiches and opened salmon tin.  “There,” he pointed, “glass.”  I studied the fragments carefully, touching one or two with my finger before using my thumbnail to crush a piece of the glass.  I then proceeded to taste the white powder and I could hear the man gasping in disbelief.  “What are you doing?” he spluttered.  “Oh, just tasting some rock salt,” I said, trying not to sound too smug.  “It’s natural in some tins of salmon.”  I could see the man’s dreams of compensation drain away with the colour from his face.  He coughed a bit and then rushed off to explain things to his anxious family.  Later, I reflected that it’s important to stay in tuna with your customers even if some of them act like pilchards.