Every time I think I'm having a bad day, I just go on and pop into my nearest Dischem. Not only do they have a wide range of products to suit your every need, they also come at very affordable prices. I once went into a Dischem to purchase some Immodium, my favourite lunchtime snack. Not only did they have a special on Immodium (two for the price of one) but I also managed to walk out of there with a recipe book, a pair of ankle weights, (they're weak, ok) a heat pack, and a months supply of free tampons (they came with the heat pack. Bizarre, really). All for the unbeatable price of R299!!!!! What a fantastic store!!!
But no, it is not for this reason alone that I wonder around the local Dischem on a particularly bad day. It is because, no matter how crap your day has been, you know that the women / man (unlikely) sitting behind the till has had by far a worse day than you. Times your shit day by 500 and, apparently, that is how bad it is to work at Dischem.
The reason I know this is because, recently I visited the store with my Cazza because I needed a product for a "friend" who was experiencing some lady problems. Thrush, if you must know. After asking at the till for some cream and hearing an immature snigger, we turned around to spot a very, very old man who was, in fact, laughing at us. Fantastic. How polite. After standing in the 40-man queue for 45 minutes, (You know how popular Dischem is on a Saturday, hot diggity!) we were told to go to till 7, where we were greeted, or, at least, snorted at, by a very sullen looking African woman with a very nicely done weave. I thought about commenting on it, but she didn't look to be in the mood. Now,I'm sure that Dischem values their customers and so, for future reference, I recommend that every till should have the "Dischem commandments" stuck onto it, with rules such as "Smile at the customers and greet them", "Do not be unkind to them when they would like to purchase a packet" or "Do not take your sweet time packaging an embarrassing product such as thrush cream". This would be helpful, I'm sure.
Instead, when we arrived at till 7, there was no smile, there was no kindness, and the lady with the nice weave certainly took her time packaging our product. This is more or less how the conversation went:
Dischem lady with weave: "Do you have a Dischem card?"
Cazza: "No"
Dischem lady with weave: *sigh* pulling of face into a grimace * sigh *
"Do you have an ebucks card?"
Cazza: "No"
Dischem lady with weave: *sigh* sneer* (scans barcode of thrush cream)
"Would you like a packet?"
Cazza: "Um, no thanks, that's ok"
Dischem lady with weave: *sort of smiles and perks up a bit*
(Megan nudges Cazza and reminds her that we are carrying around a box of thrush cream)
Cazza: "Um, actually, please may I have a packet?"
Dischem lady with weave: *sigh* mild suicidal look flashing in eyes *
The Dischem lady then proceeded to find the smallest possible packet behind the counter to try to squash the box of thrush cream into. Obviously it did not work and she had to try a new bag. This bought about more sighing and a kind of vein that was becoming very prominent on her forehead. The box didn't fit into that bag either, eventually, when I started fearing for our lives about 4 bags later, I snatched it from her and said "Never mind", and ran from the store. She probably died after we left from being such a bitch.
See? No matter how shit you think your day may be, just think that, someone out there with a severe attitude (and possible mental health) problem is having a very hard time packing thrush cream into the correctly sized bag, and, as a result, are having by far a worse day than you.
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