I’ve answered ‘Too scared to do this somehow’, but it’s more out of solidarity with the workers. I’d sooner spend ten minutes looking for something than have to put some poor bewildered fucker under pressure. Done my share of supermarket work as a youngster and I still didn’t have a fucking clue where anything was.
It was always an absolute cringefest whenever anybody asked where something was. Policy for Asda was that you were meant to walk them to the aisle and make small talk while pointing out that you can get a few sausage rolls and some brown sauce for a quid over there.
Supermarkets are a horrible place to work for folk with anxiety, and a horrible place to work full-stop. They put a lot of pressure on people to be engaging and adept at customer service, and they don’t pay anywhere near enough for the shit their workers have to put up with.
There are times that I just don’t feel up to even that kind of interaction that means absolutely nothing to the member of staff but I feel as if I’ve lost all functioning ability to appear as and behave like an actual human being. And then there are times where I’ve approached the shop and decided to walk right past it and go home instead because I simply can’t deal with going in, then spend the rest of the day beating myself up over the fact that I couldn’t even buy an onion or whatever and now can’t make my dinner.
Imagine if you just carried on walking, straight out of Asda and up the road for another 10 minutes into the nearest Tesco Express. “Yeah just here mate, bottom shelf”.
I occasionally have to go and work in a supermarket for odd days here and there and I dread being asked where stuff is, but that’s only because unlike the regular staff, I don’t know where everything is. Had a terrible time last time, which was like 2 days before Christmas 2019, when they put me in the cheese aisle. I am lactose intolerant and haven’t eaten cheese for about 17 years. Spent all day having to explain to customers that I don’t know where that cheese is/can’t help them choose a cheese and let’s ask this lady over here who actually works here. Wanted to cry by the time i got home. Oh and cheese is all stupid shapes and how are you supposed to get it on the shelf? And it smells, fuck off. I’ve gone off on a tangent but fuck cheese
Remember when I worked in a supermarket and a guy asked me where the osprey juice was. He was getting really raging when I told him that we didn’t sell it and then a couple of minutes later his wife appeared and explained that it was Ocean Spray.
Suppose the sort-of payback is when someone asks if you can check if there’s any [whatever] out the back because the shelf is empty. Walk into the warehouse, have a chat with a mate for a couple of minutes and go back to the customer ‘No, sorry we’ve not got any in stock’.
Used to hate when people asked me stuff when I worked in Waitrose. We had to walk customers to where stuff was, but I worked on drinks, all I knew was drinks, how the fuck am I meant to know where or what your fuckoff strange named produce a Waitrose customer is shopping for when I work on drinks. Debbie McGee knew the coup, though. She’d only ever ask for help reaching high up drinks, something I actually knew how to do.
These days I know enough about supermarkets to not need to ask, although there are occasions when I need to revise for my shop online before I go to the store.
Got asked where the mustard was when I was walking to the back for my break once, while busting for a shite (obvs), so very politely said “it’s in the mustard aisle” and pointed somewhere.