I love working Saturdays, no really, I do. After all, where else apart from in retail can someone repeatedly call you a liar and you can't do a thing about it.
Not to mention...
the scene - harassed bookshop employee talking to a customer
Customer 1 - I need a copy of The Quest by Wilbur Smith.
HBE - Certainly, I'll just grab one for you.
HBE steps around the customer and manages a grand total of three steps before...
Customer 2 - I'm after a book.
HBE - Ok, I'm just getting a book for this lady but...
C2 - *heavily sarcastic* Sure you are.
HBE - *speechless*
C2 - Why don't you just get me the book I want. It's Foreign Fields by Dan Collins. It's a war book.
HBE - *puts on big bright smile to cover up the fact that she would like to tear C2's throat out with her teeth* That's just upstairs in Military History. When I've finished with the customer that I'm serving I'll be happy to help you find the book.
HBE finds book for C1 and hands it over, then goes upstairs, finds the other book and hands it to C2 who is standing in front of the Computing section and looking puzzled.
HBE then goes back downstairs and into the storeroom behind the counter where she bangs her head on the wall until she feels better.
Then there was the girl who paid by cheque - "Forteen pounds and 73p only".
Luckily I have an Anthony. I get a lift home, wine and cider bought for me, and pizza delivered.
I am also permitted to watch two soppy films tonight as we watched Mad Max yesterday.