June 28: Why I always smile at security guards.

I have decided that security guards must have the worst job in the world – or if not the worst, the second worst after the poor schmucks who have to clean out tampon-blocked sewerage lines.

When I go down to my local Coles, it’s usually late(ish) at night – Dan finishes work between 10 and 12, so it’s generally in those times. There is always a security guard on stand by, watching every person who walks in and out with an eagle eye. Even when Mr. Cranky Pants security guard is on, I smile and say “Have a nice night” or some variation. I get nothing in return, but hey. I’m not an asshole.

So, I give you: Why I smile at security guards.

#1 – Their job sucks. Really. Aside from having to stare at TimTams that are on special, they don’t get to do much movement. They stand and make sure the staff are safe. I have trouble standing in one spot for more than 30 seconds, yet these people do it for hours.

#2 – They have to deal with turds who feel that a five finger discount is acceptable. And they’re bound by all sorts of legal requirements which means they can’t just bitch slap the people who do this. Personally, I’m all for a five fingered bitch slap, but these people show restraint. High Five!

#3 – They have to put up with a whole lotta bullshit. They get called “Rent-a-cop”, jeered for being “only” a security guard, have to cop abuse and flak when they bust someone in the above position. At airports, they have to pick random people and get accused of being racist bullies.

#4 – They have to stand around in the heat, in the cold, in the rain and any other stupid weather you can think of. I nearly melt in the Summer, and in Winter I am a tooth-chattering sook. No way in Hell could I do it!

#5 – The second most important reason – Sometimes, these people with ninja-like reflexes carry guns. I don’t know about you, but there is no way I would consider sassing anyone who has a permit to carry a gun, and who is trained to use one. I like my body bullet-hole free. Nuff Said?

#6 – The most important reason. As I said above, I’m  not an asshole. These people are out there to protect others, so they deserve respect. There is one dude at Coles, probably 50s or 60s, who always nods, smiles, says hello, and will help me and others with shopping bags if we need it. A simple, “Cheers, Thanks, Nice Gun” goes a long way.

I am polite to just about every one – well, within reason. Even the rude security guard I am polite to. I think he’s so cranky because he has to look at cheap TimTams and not eat any. That would make me cranky.

Image from Google, taken from here

May 10: A giggle whilst I shopped.

Have you ever looked in your grocery trolley and just laughed at what you have in there?

Tonight I was in Coles on a mission to get more cleaning products – we have a house inspection next week so this is where we do all the finer detail things like walls, door jambs, etc.

Anyway, I’m on my mission, pick up a basket as I go through the door and head straight to cleaning aisle.

Bleach: Tick.
Creme Cleanser: Tick
Rubber Gloves: Check
Toilet Cleaner: Check
Solvol: Check
Steel Wool: Check
Preen for Carpets: Tick.

As I was putting myself through the self-checkout, I realised that I hope no one gets killed in my area in the next week. I had the CSI’s shopping list in one little basket!

It made me think about other things that make me laugh when I see them side-by-side with something that just doesn’t go with it:

Condoms and a Pregnancy Test
Diet Coke and a box of chocolate
Hair Dye and Shampoo For Grey
A book on feeding your toddler and a toddler munching down on a Boost bar
The book titled “How to kill your husband” and a roll of Duct Tape
That weeks “Picture” magazine and a bible

I may be incredibly judgemental in my above summations, but I think it’s funny.

I love it when you see two things that, when purchased seperately, are completely innocent and innocuous… but when you purchase them in combination, I.E. an axe and a roll of duct tape, you can have raised eye brows.

Inside every persons shopping is a glimpse into their life. If you were to look in my trolley, you would see the home brand of everything, a pack of coloured tampons because they’re cute, meals that you can cook in a microwave, and a cat food – summary: a person who is on the go and can’t cook for shit.

If you were to look in my grandmothers trolley, you would see a combination of brand and home brand, cleaning products, fresh fruit and veges and meat from the butcher – summary: a well organised and clean freak woman who cooks healthy, plentiful meals.

I love seeing what people have in their trolley. If it’s all jumbled in, or if it’s stacked according to size/frozen/fresh; if it’s all home brand or all brand; if there is a potential murder clean up happening across from me in the dairy aisle.

I have a habit of making up full on fairy tales in my head based on what people have in their shopping. Tonight, for example, there was a woman who had a trolley stacked up and three kids. I imaghined her to be stocking up before she ran away to Barbados for a week with the Beach Boys.

What do you shop like? Could you ever be an unwilling suspect in a murder charge? Or are you super organised and shop according to size and whether the item is perishable or not?

March 31: Have I become a pain in the back side customer?

I seriously must be one of those customers that Retail Staff hate to see.

For me, there is nothing so important in a shopping experience as the Customer Service I receive. And if it is not up to my standard, best you believe that I will be saying something, post-haste!

A lot of people can say anything they like about me, but my Customer Service is something that cannot be faulted. How do I know this? My consistent 95% plus customer service scores, for a start (I lost 5% for using colloquialisms). Also, the fact that I used to get people who would say to me “I love the way you serve me, that other person is too scowly/non-smiley/cranky

I am also a very conscientious customer. I greet every CSR, I am polite, I tip when I can. I think this entitles me to a decent service.

BUT…

Have I become the customer who demands service above what can reasonably given?
Have I become that bitch that people hide from, saying “bags not!” when I walk through the door?
And please tell me I haven’t become that little old person who annoys you with their incessant chattering!

I am seriously concerned that one day I will be the little old lady with 10 cats, lavender hair which is coiffed by an aged specialist beautician, with fluoro pink lipstick and garish blue eye shadow, that just has to show you my wallet photos of said cats on birthdays, who you hide from. You don’t hide out of meaness, for I will be a nice old lady. You hide out of sheer need, because I will talk your ear off for hours on end! And if you don’t chat with me, I will complain about the lack of customer service “these days.”

Wow… that was an off-branch.

Anyhoo… I don’t want to be that crazy person who demands you smile at me so I an see all your teeth. I want to be the person that people look forward to serving because of my awesomness.

I find myself, even now though I am only 20-something, thinking “When I was 14 and serving people, I definitely wasn’t a surely little cow!” and I am wondering  if I am setting myself up to being the customer that I fear most.

Have a look at my cats! This is Mittens, and Socks, and Rose-Petal and…