Monday, 28 May 2007

9: 42p

I clock in and go to the store room. The tower is still there. My boss is standing next to the tower. I go and stand next to my boss. We stand there.

He says something fast and confusing about the bananas. It sounds like an apology. It sounds angry and frantic.

I don’t know where to put them, I say.

He says something about piles – about making piles of them around the shop or something.

He goes away.

*

There are other people working in the produce department with me. There are three of us. There should be four of us. One of them has called in sick. I am sort of in charge. We are all standing there looking up at the tower of crates. They are the replenishment assistants. I am the replenishment supervisor. I am making six p more an hour than them.

They don’t give a shit about this job. They are part timers.

Eight times six is forty two.

I will buy one banana with this money and throw it away when I finish my shift.

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