I’m tired. Very, very tired.
I work in retail. That’s really all you need to know!
Yes, it’s a customer-facing role. Yes, it has its challenges even on a normal day. But add Corona Virus to the mixture, and you get a very special sort of crazy.
In the last two days –
- A total twonk coughed on his hand and then continued to push his trolley around without a care in the world.
- Two twonks complained about our new ‘cards only, no cash’ rule. Yes, I get it – but mate, none of this is my fault.
- Twonks have been ignoring our two metre rule.
- Twonks have been complaining about our two metre rule.
- Twonks have been complaining that people are ignoring our two metre rule.
- Twonks in the queue have been complaining about the length of the queue – for fuck’s sake, take a look at yourself. You’re part of the problem.
- Twonks have been standing too close. Just too damn close. All the damn time.
- We had a twonk who came in ‘just for a look round’.
- The twonkest of all the twonks told me that I ‘didn’t need to worry’ about my elderly mother, because he isn’t worried about his elderly mother. His mother is older than my mother, and if she dies she dies. I had to walk away from him mid-sentence. Tough one that.
And I get to do it all over again today.
To be fair, lots of people have put up with the queues and the general mayhem with a good grace. But every interaction I have with someone starts with me thinking, ‘Are you the one who will pass it on to me?’ And one day, they will be.
I wear gloves all the time, I wash my hands at every opportunity, I sanitise them in between times, I keep my distance – but inevitably, sooner or later, it will come to me.
And I live on my own, so I will have to be poorly on my own. And that worries me. I’m generally well, I’m fit and healthy, I have no underlying health conditions, I’ve never smoked. I will, probably, only have it mildly – but I won’t know that until I’m better. And if it’s all the same to everyone, I’d rather not have it at all.
Back off, Buster.
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