Idiots at the till
Discussion
DannyScene said:
WinstonWolf said:
DannyScene said:
dave_s13 said:
I did a fairly big shop at aldi last week with my 18 month old lad in tow. Got to the checkouts that were by then 4 full trolleys deep each and I could see that people were loading their f
king bags AT THE TILL!
Where the hell else are you meant to pack your bags? Would you rather they pile it all in the trolley and just tip the lot into the boot of their car?king bags AT THE TILL! So you buy your goods, pile them into a trolley and then have to go to a shelf at the front of the store to pack your bags?
That seems pretty stupid as surely the packing shelf becomes congested causing a back log of people who could've packed their items as they were put through the till now waiting to use the designated packing area
Cfnteabag said:
Walking out of the supermarket a little while ago and the standard mouth breathing family stops in the doorway to workout which disabled parking bay/pavement they have abandoned their Zafira on, I chose not to stop and when they turned to look at who had shattered their ankle I mearly said "sorry I wasnt expecting anyone to be stupid enough to stop in a doorway"
Cheese Mechanic said:
They have a large shelf for that purpose acroos from the till exit. Aldi can be very quick, I've done a weeks Adli shop (approx £40 spend) and been in and out the door again in just over 10 mins. Their tills are seriously quick, unless of course you get a tt in front of you.
Only when they can be bothered to open them. Just this past Monday I walked out of one, because of a massive queue at the only open till.t in front of you. I am getting hacked off with Aldi now, I find my local one very crowded and frequented by people who don't know the proper checkout procedure (see above). Victims of their own success.
R5YUP said:
Can she do it? Can she bks!! FOR fkS SAKE. PEOPLE ARE LOSING VALUABLE SECONDS OFF THEIR LIVES THAT THEY CAN NEVER GET BACK AND YOU ARE EMBARRASING ME IN FRONT OF THE OTHER MALE COMMUTERS WHO KNOW YOU NEED A fkING TICKET TO GET THROUGH THE fkING GATE. EVEN THE fkING TOURISTS KNOW THIS.
I love her really (but not when she's blocking the whole station from exiting the tube as she's fishing in that fking bag for her fking ticket)
A slight variation with my wife once.I love her really (but not when she's blocking the whole station from exiting the tube as she's fishing in that fking bag for her fking ticket)
Ticket car park where you pay in a machine just before you leave and then put the ticket in the slot at the barrier. All standard stuff right. There's danger to be had if you're with your wife.
After we both got in the car I gave the ticket and said,'Hold on to that for a sec'. Get to the barrier and I ask for the ticket back. It suddenly dawned on me after seeing her worried look that rather than just keep it in hand, she'd put it in 'The Black Hole of Calcutta' otherwise known as her handbag.
You know the rest.
It seems to be petrol stations giving me high blood pressure lately. A couple of weeks back I pull into a busy station behind some buffoon in a Golf, he pulls in just ahead of me, but all the other pumps have a queue so I get behind him.
He parks up next to the pump and starts fiddling around in his glovebox. In the meantime a car pulls up behind me blocking me in place. While he is fannying around in his glovebox all of the other pumps have been used by at least 2 cars and the place is now deserted. The person behind me gets fed up and moves to a different pump I do the same. I fill up, pay and get back to my car. Just as I belt up, golf boy drives off, he hasn't even got out of his car.
Then the following week the Mrs is driving and we pull up behind a Defender at the pump, again the station is busy. Matey gets out of his defender, strolls around to the passenger door and changes his shoes, then decides he's ready to fill up. Then rummages through his car for his wallet, goes into the petrol station, gets himself a coffee and his weekly shopping and comes strolling out eventually. We could have moved pumps but the other one she could get to was being occupied by someone who parked, went in to the shop and did a load of shopping without putting any fuel in, despite there being plenty of off pump parking.
What's wrong with these morons?
He parks up next to the pump and starts fiddling around in his glovebox. In the meantime a car pulls up behind me blocking me in place. While he is fannying around in his glovebox all of the other pumps have been used by at least 2 cars and the place is now deserted. The person behind me gets fed up and moves to a different pump I do the same. I fill up, pay and get back to my car. Just as I belt up, golf boy drives off, he hasn't even got out of his car.
Then the following week the Mrs is driving and we pull up behind a Defender at the pump, again the station is busy. Matey gets out of his defender, strolls around to the passenger door and changes his shoes, then decides he's ready to fill up. Then rummages through his car for his wallet, goes into the petrol station, gets himself a coffee and his weekly shopping and comes strolling out eventually. We could have moved pumps but the other one she could get to was being occupied by someone who parked, went in to the shop and did a load of shopping without putting any fuel in, despite there being plenty of off pump parking.
What's wrong with these morons?
ehonda said:
It seems to be petrol stations giving me high blood pressure lately. A couple of weeks back I pull into a busy station behind some buffoon in a Golf, he pulls in just ahead of me, but all the other pumps have a queue so I get behind him.
He parks up next to the pump and starts fiddling around in his glovebox. In the meantime a car pulls up behind me blocking me in place. While he is fannying around in his glovebox all of the other pumps have been used by at least 2 cars and the place is now deserted. The person behind me gets fed up and moves to a different pump I do the same. I fill up, pay and get back to my car. Just as I belt up, golf boy drives off, he hasn't even got out of his car.
Then the following week the Mrs is driving and we pull up behind a Defender at the pump, again the station is busy. Matey gets out of his defender, strolls around to the passenger door and changes his shoes, then decides he's ready to fill up. Then rummages through his car for his wallet, goes into the petrol station, gets himself a coffee and his weekly shopping and comes strolling out eventually. We could have moved pumps but the other one she could get to was being occupied by someone who parked, went in to the shop and did a load of shopping without putting any fuel in, despite there being plenty of off pump parking.
What's wrong with these morons?
a deficit of self-awareness. Of course we all believe our time to be more valuable than the next mans, although course some believe it a little more than others.He parks up next to the pump and starts fiddling around in his glovebox. In the meantime a car pulls up behind me blocking me in place. While he is fannying around in his glovebox all of the other pumps have been used by at least 2 cars and the place is now deserted. The person behind me gets fed up and moves to a different pump I do the same. I fill up, pay and get back to my car. Just as I belt up, golf boy drives off, he hasn't even got out of his car.
Then the following week the Mrs is driving and we pull up behind a Defender at the pump, again the station is busy. Matey gets out of his defender, strolls around to the passenger door and changes his shoes, then decides he's ready to fill up. Then rummages through his car for his wallet, goes into the petrol station, gets himself a coffee and his weekly shopping and comes strolling out eventually. We could have moved pumps but the other one she could get to was being occupied by someone who parked, went in to the shop and did a load of shopping without putting any fuel in, despite there being plenty of off pump parking.
What's wrong with these morons?
redtwin said:
Only when they can be bothered to open them. Just this past Monday I walked out of one, because of a massive queue at the only open till.
I am getting hacked off with Aldi now, I find my local one very crowded and frequented by people who don't know the proper checkout procedure (see above). Victims of their own success.
Like any outfit, I suppose they have their moments. Truth is though, I reckon shopping is the same as driving long distance, do it when most others are not. I go in at opening time , works for me,very few people in there , and those that are tend to know the drill. I've been in the same outlet midday on a Saturday and walked away,just full of brain deads, some with weapons grade gobs. I am getting hacked off with Aldi now, I find my local one very crowded and frequented by people who don't know the proper checkout procedure (see above). Victims of their own success.
Worth getting up early for some reasons.
People who order more than two coffees/beverages at once in your hot beverage provider of choice. This just happened and as I'm rather tired and havent had any coffee this morning I was furious.
Between the two blokes they ordered 16 drinks and various bits of food, the two people serving behind the counter were clearly overwhelmed, queue started building up and going out the door - it took forever. I've nothing against ordering an extra one or something, but 16? fkING SIXfkINGTEEN? ps off! Wasn't just simple stuff either, fancy iced things, various other drinks.
To top it all off, after this time waiting, the then goes to split the bill on a card that doesnt work, then some of it on cash, then hasn't given enough (presumably what the wkers in his office gave him) pisses about more trying to dig out some more change. I hope you trip and spill all the bds. You utter .
I can't be the only one that gets pissed off by this can I? If so I might end up feeling rather selfish.
Between the two blokes they ordered 16 drinks and various bits of food, the two people serving behind the counter were clearly overwhelmed, queue started building up and going out the door - it took forever. I've nothing against ordering an extra one or something, but 16? f
kING SIXfkINGTEEN? ps off! Wasn't just simple stuff either, fancy iced things, various other drinks. To top it all off, after this time waiting, the
then goes to split the bill on a card that doesnt work, then some of it on cash, then hasn't given enough (presumably what the wkers in his office gave him) pisses about more trying to dig out some more change. I hope you trip and spill all the bds. You utter . I can't be the only one that gets pissed off by this can I? If so I might end up feeling rather selfish.
redtwin said:
Only when they can be bothered to open them. Just this past Monday I walked out of one, because of a massive queue at the only open till.
That's certainly the case - I very often have a look around Aldi as their power tools and stuff can be good and cheap, but I often find myself walking past the massive queue at the single open till thinking (and hopefully not saying out loud) that there's going to have to be something seriously impressive to make it worth waiting. And you know they're all just standing in the back chatting anyway, as they grudgingly make their way out after the bell has been rung a thousand times.I was annoyed at a petrol station only the other week. Taking the classic for MOT, a friendly chap in front of me comments on the car then goes to pay. I follow him in, he's paying, chatting with the cashier, being friendly, and my inner voice is screaming "GET ON WITH IT. I'VE GOT AN MOT BOOKED IN TEN MINUTES!". Anyway, he eventually pays and walks back to his car, I give my pump number, she types in a different pump and asks for £40-odd. I point out it's not the pump I mentioned, I only put £15 in, and the penny drops, she's charged the other guy for my petrol. So she shouts him back in, and luckily (for them) he comes back. And my inner voice is now shouting "IF ONLY YOU'D BEEN CONCENTRATING INSTEAD OF HAVING A NICE CHAT!". Anyway, job sorted, MOT passed. Said petrol station is quite expensive and not one I normally use, I only went in as it's the closest one to the shortest route between shed and MOT station, and although it doesn't matter I don't like to push my luck.
carreauchompeur said:
Self checkouts at my local Sainsburys appear to be some kind of fun for elderly and stupid people. Invariably with whole baskets full of stuff, laboriously examining each item, finding the barcode and waving it at the machine slowly.
Whilst there's a queue of people like me wanting to get their lunch and get out behind.
Why is it so hard?
IF YOU HAVE LOTS OF SHOPPING AND/OR ARE RETARDED PLEASE USE THE NORMAL CHECKOUTS!
It's the people with trolleys piled high (who shouldn't be there in the first place) who push in front of me who quite clearly is holding a sandwich and a bag of crisps. Whilst there's a queue of people like me wanting to get their lunch and get out behind.
Why is it so hard?
IF YOU HAVE LOTS OF SHOPPING AND/OR ARE RETARDED PLEASE USE THE NORMAL CHECKOUTS!
Between the hours of 1 and 2pm, the following people should be banned from using self serve:
The elderly
The clearly unemployed
Single mums with unruly children (who probably fall into the above category)
Idiots
People with trolleys piled high.
Trolley draggers at the checkout really piss me off, dragging their trolley behind them and blocking off the conveyor. Had one woman once leave her trolley at the end of the conveyor whilst she was up the other end packing, she didn't appreciate me ramming it of the way.
As for people blocking aisles with their trolleys I just shift them out of the way myself, even if they're attached to the retard.
Dawdlers in doorways
As for people blocking aisles with their trolleys I just shift them out of the way myself, even if they're attached to the retard.
Dawdlers in doorways
Charlie Brooker wrote a brilliant piece a while back about a ditherer at a ticket machine and then suddenly becoming the ditherer himself:
Charlie Brooker said:
I was queuing for a ticket at Clapham Junction when it happened. The train was leaving any minute from a platform at the other end of the station, so I was tense. To add to my woes, the person in front of me using the machine was one of those professional ditherers the Sod’s Law Corporation apparently employs to arrive in your life at the most infuriating moments.
As time drained away, he gawped at the screen like a medieval serf trying to comprehend helicopter controls, confounded by one simple question after another – questions such as where he was going, and how many of him there were.
His hand hovered over the touch screen, afraid to choose, like a man deciding whether to stroke a sleeping wolf. Meanwhile I ground my teeth to chalk dust. Finally the prick was done, and once I’d waited for him to collect his tickets and his bloody receipt, it was my turn.
Having no change, I opted to pay by card. But just as my hand moved towards the keypad to enter my pin, a voice in my head whispered: ‘You don’t know what it is.’ And it was right. I didn’t. I scanned my head, but nope: my pin had vanished. It had gone.
I tried inputting something that seemed about right. INCORRECT PIN said the screen. I slowed my breathing to clear my head. Rested my hand on the keypad a second time. Tried to fall back on muscle memory. Performed a finger dance. INCORRECT PIN.
I became aware of the snaking, sighing queue behind me. Now I was the ditherer. A third bum guess would swallow the card, so I snapped it back into my wallet, turned on my heel and walked off, past the eyes of everyone in the queue, trying vainly to look as though not buying a ticket had been my plan all along, and everything was going smoothly, thanks for asking.
As time drained away, he gawped at the screen like a medieval serf trying to comprehend helicopter controls, confounded by one simple question after another – questions such as where he was going, and how many of him there were.
His hand hovered over the touch screen, afraid to choose, like a man deciding whether to stroke a sleeping wolf. Meanwhile I ground my teeth to chalk dust. Finally the prick was done, and once I’d waited for him to collect his tickets and his bloody receipt, it was my turn.
Having no change, I opted to pay by card. But just as my hand moved towards the keypad to enter my pin, a voice in my head whispered: ‘You don’t know what it is.’ And it was right. I didn’t. I scanned my head, but nope: my pin had vanished. It had gone.
I tried inputting something that seemed about right. INCORRECT PIN said the screen. I slowed my breathing to clear my head. Rested my hand on the keypad a second time. Tried to fall back on muscle memory. Performed a finger dance. INCORRECT PIN.
I became aware of the snaking, sighing queue behind me. Now I was the ditherer. A third bum guess would swallow the card, so I snapped it back into my wallet, turned on my heel and walked off, past the eyes of everyone in the queue, trying vainly to look as though not buying a ticket had been my plan all along, and everything was going smoothly, thanks for asking.
Basically, it's just a complete lack of empathy for absolutely anybody else. Everything in the World is about them, so fk everybody else.
Sadly, I think I have the opposite affliction. I will let people in front of me in queues who turn out to be ditherers. I will speed up when driving if I think I might be holding someone up. I will go out of my way to hold a door open for someone, even if they're going in a different direction.
k everybody else.Sadly, I think I have the opposite affliction. I will let people in front of me in queues who turn out to be ditherers. I will speed up when driving if I think I might be holding someone up. I will go out of my way to hold a door open for someone, even if they're going in a different direction.
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