Fruit and Vag. (Not the good kind)

I recently took up a job at a local fresh produce store called Scutti. Fruit and Veg isn't just a job, it's a passion, it's my life. But lately, my colleagues and employers have almost succeeded in destroying my love for organic sustenance. Lifes hard when your a check out chick, on a day to day basis i'm confronted with serious serious questions like:

1. Do you do cash out?
2. How many varieties of gherkin do you sell?
3. I swear there were artichokes last time i was in here, do you know where they are?
4. I'm good thanks how are you?
5. Thom can you please re-arrange the cheese fridge?
6. What tastes better, Yellow flesh nectarines or White flesh nectarines?

The job pays well, 8 fucking dollars an hour...thats enough to pay for a bus fare home, which is a kilometre away. My bosses are two obese italian brothers who, despite there short stature manage to cross from one side of the shop to the other in 5 seconds to tell me off if I take one minute to think of something other than customers. A few weeks into the job and I'm already tempted to quit. It was two incidences that led me to make this decision.

The first occured during the early days of my employment. The shop had just been closed and i'd finished cleaning up my section so i was sent to the cheese fridge to rearrange the wide variety of cheeses we have in stock. Anyway when i got to the fridge 3 other people were already at work on the important job, including one total bitch who thinks she owns the joint. I picked up a wedge of vintage cheddar and put it on top of a wedge of Danish Port-Salut, just for shits and giggles. Within a millisecond the chick was on my back.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?"

"Re-arranging the cheese fridge"

"Your putting that in the wrong spot"

"Oh yeah because re-arranging the cheese fridge is essential to the success of this business. I mean fuck imagine if this Animaletti di Provola accidentally got picked up by someone who wanted nothing more but to purchase a nice slice of Romadur, what would happen then? Fucking chaos thats what, it'd be apocolyptic, god would be cheated and the foundations of this very earth would come crashing down wouldn't they?"

"Well it helps them sell, and if you have a problem with that maybe you should go and talk to Nick."

I then ran to the other end of the fridge and put a Hi-Lo milk right in the middle of the Full Creams, just to piss her off.

The second incident occured just the other day. Some fat bitch who works there aswell had just knocked off and was buying some groceries (mainly chocolate) to take home and eat her sorrows away while watching Friends and wishing she had some. You always get nervous when you serve someone who has been doing the same job for way longer than you so i took extra special care. After i'd put all her chocolate through she said to me "Um can i please just tell you something? You are really shit at packing bags". It was like a scene from a movie, everyone at the tills gasped and in a split second I'd already thought of my retort.

"Yes sure you can tell me that, as long as i can tell you that your fat and your going to die a lonely old widow. No one else has ever complained about my packing, so why don't you pack the fucking bag?"

She looked infuriated at me and immediately informed my boss who spent the rest of my shift giving me an enormous lecture. I'll probably get fired from that shithole before i get the chance to quit.