My pay was 40 pence an hour. My hours were 6 – 10 pm Thursday and Friday and all day Saturday. The uniform was a knee length dirty orange house coat with chocolate brown slacks. There were two other part-timers, Deirdre and Mary but they wanted nothing to do with me.
I was paired with Angela Dalton who was in charge of the dairy section and helped her stack the butter cages. Angela left school at 14. She was ‘weak’ for Scott the new boy in the butcher’s section and told me to always down a pint of milk before drinking to ‘line your stomach.’ One time as we sat in the refrigerated storerooms surrounded by boxes of Frytex, Flora and Kerrygold she told me she loved poetry. I looked at her surprised. “Yeah,” she said, and spouted, “I wandered lonely as a cloud, that floats on high o’er vale and hill. When all at once I heard a shout, ‘get off me fucking daffodils.”
I loved the working life. I got a kick out of walking through the double doors at the back of the shop marked ‘Staff Only.’ I loved having my own money and actually screamed the first time I saw a ten pound note in the little brown envelope that contained our weekly wages. I thought I could buy up all of Cork. I loved dealing with the public and being asked questions as if I was somebody who had something worth contributing. My mother, alarmed at my enthusiasm told me, “In a way I’m glad you’re working there because then you’ll learn that is the kind of job you’ll get if you don’t work at school.” Yet young as I was I found being ‘on my feet all day’ tiring. Many a Friday evening I would crawl into my bed aching with tiredness and lie there listening to the balls of my feet throbbing.
One Friday evening at the end of my shift, I was walking
slowly down the baby food aisle towards the double doors. All at once I heard a shout, “Ger, hang on a
sec.” I turned around. It was Mary, one of the other two part-timers. She trotted towards me purposefully her
thick, dead straight blonde hair flapping about her head in time with her
efforts. I waited, curious to know what
she wanted having worked alongside her for six weeks and being completely
ignored by her. When she drew level with
me, she swung her arm back and smacked me on the face. The shock, the pain and the confusion - I never
saw it coming. Turning on her heel Mary
ran away shrieking with laughter.
I hesitated for a few seconds and then ran after her. I wasn’t angry, I just wanted to know why. Mary kept running and taking a sharp left by the Cornflakes she took refuge behind Catherine at the Pickn’Mix. Catherine wore glasses thicker than bottle ends making her heavily mascara’d eyelashes look like smashed spiders.
Mary shouted, “Don’t touch me, you’re mad.”
I stopped still and said, “I’m mad? You’re the one that hit me.”
Mary laughed and peering over the bewildered Catherine’s shoulder, “Yeah, I know, I just wanted to see how you’d react.”
It was the start of a beautiful friendship.
All broken chocolate and opened bags of sweets had to be taken down the back of the storeroom to be discarded. Mary and I ‘accidentally’ broke a lot of chocolate which we scoffed later. On Saturdays we would buy a roast chicken between us and fresh baked bread rolls from the delicatessen and gorge ourselves in the canteen. The full timers thought we were mad to be spending our hard earned money on food but to us it was a luxury. For dessert we ate a family sized trifle.
One magical Sunday in June, when shops used to close on a Sunday, almost the entire Douglas branch travelled by bus to Dublin to participate in the Quinnsworth inter-branch football tournament. The tournament was held in UCD’s playing fields and in my memory it was all blue skies, sun and endless laughter. We ate our sandwiches sitting under a massive tree and I remember at one point laughing so much I threw up. The only reason I went was because I fancied Dan Harrington. During the warm up session before a match, Dan was sitting on the ground stretching his ham strings when one of his testicles popped out of his shorts. He seemed oblivious to the fact because he didn’t pop it back in. It’s an image I’ll never forget and it put me right off him. After all the football was over, there was a disco. I love to dance. Betty Higgins did this amazing shuffle where she seemed to move without lifting her feet off the floor; it was like Michael Jackson’s moonwalk before he ever made it famous. I begged her to show me how to do it. She waved me away, “Go ‘way, I’m scarlet” she said.
Every Monday afternoon after school I walked to the Post Office in Capwell and lodged my earnings. I remember one afternoon sitting at the kitchen table doing my homework while my mother washed the dishes in the sink. She suddenly turned to me and said, “I hope you’re saving your money for Germany.” “I am,” I said, “I’ve 200 pounds saved.” She stared at me and it was then I realised I probably had more spending money than she did.
I intended working there forever but in the end I was sacked. The supervisor, Eileen was regarded by everyone as evil. She was even horrible to her husband. I somehow managed to evade her radar until Christmas Eve. The anniversary of my grandfather's passing is Christmas Eve; every year my entire extended family remembered him by attending mass in Glounthaune church. I was scheduled to be in work that day. I didn’t know that I could request leave. It didn’t occur to me that it would be polite to at least let them know I wouldn’t be there and given that it was Christmas Eve – the busiest day of the year I should have known that my absence would be even more noticeable. The mass was lovely and afterwards I accompanied my mother into Quinnsworth where I was spotted by Eileen. She stared at me long and hard while I stood next to my mother at the checkout. I felt uncomfortable and sensed something was wrong.
I returned to work the first Saturday after Christmas. Some weeks previously I had written my name in black permanent marker on my locker. This was apparently the ‘final straw’ for Mr Keohane and he told Eileen to fire me. Eileen summoned me to the changing rooms and asked me to explain my vandalism. I apologised. She led me to believe that I could make up for it by cleaning the ladies’ toilets. I was instructed to clean inside and outside the toilets especially around the back and to scrub the floor by hand. Marie Piper one of the full timers helped me. She wasn’t asked to help but said, “It’s a disgrace how you’re being treated.” It took a good three hours but with Marie’s help, we did a great job. I thought I’m surely back in Eileen’s good books now. Eileen inspected my work. She told me I did a good job. She then told me I was fired.
A few years ago, I bumped into Tony Keohane at an MBA dinner in Dunboyne House in County Meath. He said he remembered me but I think he was being polite. He was now the CEO of Tesco Ireland. We had a lovely chat but he confided that Douglas was the worst place he had ever worked as the staff were difficult and ‘impossible to work with.’
I hesitated for a few seconds and then ran after her. I wasn’t angry, I just wanted to know why. Mary kept running and taking a sharp left by the Cornflakes she took refuge behind Catherine at the Pickn’Mix. Catherine wore glasses thicker than bottle ends making her heavily mascara’d eyelashes look like smashed spiders.
Mary shouted, “Don’t touch me, you’re mad.”
I stopped still and said, “I’m mad? You’re the one that hit me.”
Mary laughed and peering over the bewildered Catherine’s shoulder, “Yeah, I know, I just wanted to see how you’d react.”
It was the start of a beautiful friendship.
All broken chocolate and opened bags of sweets had to be taken down the back of the storeroom to be discarded. Mary and I ‘accidentally’ broke a lot of chocolate which we scoffed later. On Saturdays we would buy a roast chicken between us and fresh baked bread rolls from the delicatessen and gorge ourselves in the canteen. The full timers thought we were mad to be spending our hard earned money on food but to us it was a luxury. For dessert we ate a family sized trifle.
One magical Sunday in June, when shops used to close on a Sunday, almost the entire Douglas branch travelled by bus to Dublin to participate in the Quinnsworth inter-branch football tournament. The tournament was held in UCD’s playing fields and in my memory it was all blue skies, sun and endless laughter. We ate our sandwiches sitting under a massive tree and I remember at one point laughing so much I threw up. The only reason I went was because I fancied Dan Harrington. During the warm up session before a match, Dan was sitting on the ground stretching his ham strings when one of his testicles popped out of his shorts. He seemed oblivious to the fact because he didn’t pop it back in. It’s an image I’ll never forget and it put me right off him. After all the football was over, there was a disco. I love to dance. Betty Higgins did this amazing shuffle where she seemed to move without lifting her feet off the floor; it was like Michael Jackson’s moonwalk before he ever made it famous. I begged her to show me how to do it. She waved me away, “Go ‘way, I’m scarlet” she said.
Every Monday afternoon after school I walked to the Post Office in Capwell and lodged my earnings. I remember one afternoon sitting at the kitchen table doing my homework while my mother washed the dishes in the sink. She suddenly turned to me and said, “I hope you’re saving your money for Germany.” “I am,” I said, “I’ve 200 pounds saved.” She stared at me and it was then I realised I probably had more spending money than she did.
I intended working there forever but in the end I was sacked. The supervisor, Eileen was regarded by everyone as evil. She was even horrible to her husband. I somehow managed to evade her radar until Christmas Eve. The anniversary of my grandfather's passing is Christmas Eve; every year my entire extended family remembered him by attending mass in Glounthaune church. I was scheduled to be in work that day. I didn’t know that I could request leave. It didn’t occur to me that it would be polite to at least let them know I wouldn’t be there and given that it was Christmas Eve – the busiest day of the year I should have known that my absence would be even more noticeable. The mass was lovely and afterwards I accompanied my mother into Quinnsworth where I was spotted by Eileen. She stared at me long and hard while I stood next to my mother at the checkout. I felt uncomfortable and sensed something was wrong.
I returned to work the first Saturday after Christmas. Some weeks previously I had written my name in black permanent marker on my locker. This was apparently the ‘final straw’ for Mr Keohane and he told Eileen to fire me. Eileen summoned me to the changing rooms and asked me to explain my vandalism. I apologised. She led me to believe that I could make up for it by cleaning the ladies’ toilets. I was instructed to clean inside and outside the toilets especially around the back and to scrub the floor by hand. Marie Piper one of the full timers helped me. She wasn’t asked to help but said, “It’s a disgrace how you’re being treated.” It took a good three hours but with Marie’s help, we did a great job. I thought I’m surely back in Eileen’s good books now. Eileen inspected my work. She told me I did a good job. She then told me I was fired.
A few years ago, I bumped into Tony Keohane at an MBA dinner in Dunboyne House in County Meath. He said he remembered me but I think he was being polite. He was now the CEO of Tesco Ireland. We had a lovely chat but he confided that Douglas was the worst place he had ever worked as the staff were difficult and ‘impossible to work with.’
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