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“That’s ten pounds eight pence please,” said Amanda to the man in front of her. She tried to muster up a smile but smiling at the overweight middle-aged man in a trenchcoat and carrying a briefcase was practically impossible for her.
The man smiled back and took out his wallet. “The weather’s too nice to be stuck in here,” said the man as he pulled out a ten pound note and a pound coin. He handed them to Amanda and she entered the amount on her till, then watched the drawer flip open. Removing a twenty pence piece, she took the receipt and handed the coin and the piece of paper to the man. “Twenty pence change and your receipt, thank you,” said Amanda with a small sigh. How desperately she wanted to turn round to these people and say, “I shouldn’t be here. I’m a writer, don’t you know”.
The man left the checkout and Amanda had no other customers. She tightened her ponytail and stretched briefly, as she had been sat at the till in her local branch of Sainsbury’s for almost three hours and soon it would be time for her break. A measly fifteen minutes – by the time she had been to the ladies, straightened her hair and make-up, grabbed a quick cup of coffee and something to eat she would have to be back on the till again, and woe betide her if she was a second late back from her break!
A young woman with a basket of shopping appeared at her checkout and began unloading the goods onto the belt. As they moved up towards Amanda, she picked them up one by one, first a lump of cheese, then a loaf of bread, some chocolate chip muffins – and she began the repetitive process of scanning them in. Beep, Beep, Beep – that was all she heard as each item was scanned in.
Every day at the supermarket was exactly the same. Same faces, same noses, as the Emperor Nero said in the film Quo Vadis. Amanda had been to University and had gained a degree in English and Journalism, but finding a job had been a nightmare. Even with her degree she was told that she was overqualified and that she would have to start at the bottom, but most jobs in journalism started on as little as £8000 per year. She was paid more than that as a full-time checkout operator at Sainsbury’s and as she had a substantial debt to repay from her time at University, every penny counted.
As the young lady left, a queue seemed to form out of nowhere. Amanda then realised that it was unlikely she would get her break as every checkout had to be manned. She was hot and fed up and wished for one thing.
That she was anywhere except sat at that checkout.
* * * * * * *
Later that night Amanda was sat at her computer putting the finishing touches to her latest batch of job applications and finishing off an article about working in a supermarket that she hoped to sell to her local newspaper. She had been working from the second she had arrived home and it was already past midnight, but she was determined to finish off her article. She glanced up from her computer screen, rubbed her tired eyes and picked up her copy of The Magic of Thinking Big. She gave a small smile and carried on writing her article.
A knock on her door made her jump. “Come in,” she said.
The door opened and her flat-mate Erica entered.
“Hi”, said Erica. “I saw your light on and I thought you’d like a mug of hot chocolate”.
“Oh, I would, thanks,” said Amanda, taking the steaming mug from Erica.
“How’s it going?” asked Erica. “And do I dare ask how work was for you?”
“I hate it,” said Amanda. “I hate it with every fibre of my being. God, I don’t want to sound too big headed, but I know that I’m better than that place. Something will turn up, I’m sure”.
“That’s the spirit kiddo, keep thinking positive,” said Erica. “I’m off to bed”.
“Thanks Erica. Goodnight,” said Amanda, and she turned her attention back to her computer.
* * * * * * *
The next morning, Amanda entered her clocking in number into the machine at 6.53am. She was always early and yet if she dared to clock out at 3.59pm instead of 4.00pm, she would be hauled into the Personnel Office to explain why. On average she lost about half an hour each week by clocking in before her official start time.
“Morning Amanda,” said several of the other cashiers.
“Morning,” replied Amanda dutifully.
“Did you see Eastenders last night?” asked Karen, one of the shop floor supervisors.
Amanda shook her head. “Uh no, I never watch it”.
“What? You don’t watch Eastenders?” asked Karen in surprise. “So like, what do you watch then? Coronation Street? Emmerdale? Brookside even?”.
“No, none of the soaps. In fact, I don’t watch much television”.
Karen shook her head and engaged in banter about the latest happenings in Eastenders with the other ladies, while Amanda looked at the daily schedule to see what she was doing that day. It was the same old story – OFFICE followed by TILL TILL TILL TILL *LUNCH* TILL TILL TILL TILL.
Amanda overheard Karen moaning about the additional work in the office now that Sharon had left to have a baby. Everyone moaned about the place, about how awful if was and how much they wanted to leave. But no-one seemed to want to do anything about their situation. They stayed where they were, not wishing to progress themselves and Amanda was convinced that a lot of the women would be there until they retired.
Amanda made her way to the general office to do the price changes, while wondering if she should start watching the soaps just to fit in with the other ladies. But then she remembered her lifelong goal – to be a writer. And nothing was going to get in the way of that.
* * * * * * * *
This is the ultimate humiliation, thought Amanda.
She was stood at the entrance to the supermarket, wearing a big banner that said “Welcome to Sainsbury’s” and handing out baskets to the customers if they wanted one.
She had never been so mind-numbingly bored in all her life. The Deputy Manager had been brainstorming ideas about new ways of welcoming the customer to the store, and this was one of them.
Amanda was about to put the basket down that she was holding, but Tracey, the deputy customer services manager, stopped her in her tracks.
“No Amanda, you must hold a basket at all times,” she said.
“Yes Tracey,” replied Amanda meekly.
Oh god, she thought, why do I always turn to jelly whenever she’s around?
In fact, Amanda thought that Tracey reminded her of one of the prison wardens in the old Australian series Prisoner Cell Block H.
* * * * * * *
Amanda felt elated. She had served her last customer and had signed off from the till for the very last time. For once, she had a huge smile on her face and couldn’t wait to clock out and leave the supermarket for the last time as an employee.
“Good luck Amanda,” said Tracey as Amanda walked past her.
“Thanks,” replied Amanda.
“Gosh, this is the only time I’ve ever really seen you smile,” said Rita, the Customer Services Manager, in her usual sarcastic tone of voice. Amanda paid no attention to her as she clocked out and walked upstairs to the ladies cloakrooms to collect her things.
Amanda had sold the articles she had written to the Editor of her local newspaper and he had interviewed her with a view to giving her a job as a reporter. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for in motivation and determination, and her writing was excellent, so the Editor offered her a job. The salary was only slightly better than what she was getting at Sainsbury’s, but it was a start and at least Amanda would be doing what she loved for a living – writing.
“Good luck in your new job,” said Carol, the Price Controller, as Amanda was about to leave the cloakrooms. “We’ll miss you”.
“Thanks – see you soon. And this time, I’ll be on the other side of the till,” said Amanda.
As she walked out of the store, no-one else gave her good wishes. No-one else said goodbye, or wished her well. She hadn’t received a good luck in your new job card or a leaving present – not that she wanted one. She recalled the baby shower that had been given to Sharon when she went on Maternity leave and couldn’t help but feel bitter. Amanda came to the conclusion that it was the kind of place where if you face fitted in, you were fine. If it didn’t, just as hers didn’t, life at the supermarket could be hell.
Amanda took one last look at the store and then walked off to her new job and new life with a smile on her face.
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