Banging head against the wall….

Bang head here, firmly.

It’s one of those things. Introduce a new EPOS (Electronic Point of Sale) system and there will be challenges; guaranteed. We’ve had EPOS in our business in the Filling Station for a wee while; probably about 18 years. Hard to do the maths whilst you’re banging your head off the counter top.

As per previous blogs, my lovely readers know that I have ‘returned to the shop floor’. I had to. It was, as they say, a ‘no-brainer’. I’ve loved it. It’s given me the chance to not only get used to EPOS (essential) and also, which is incredibly valuable, get to know our team even better. Some say that it’ll give me more respect. Phew, I hope so.

I am known to be a happy-clappy person at work. At this point, I have to admit, there’s been times when I have lost my smile. I guess I shouldn’t beat myself up; after all, it’s been challenging. I’ve tried to maintain a good sense of humour, but it’s been tough at times. Helga, one of our Team Leaders summed it up: “I haven’t seen you happy for ages…. (EEK) Enough about me. Maybe I need a break, that’s not going to be soon….

So, a day in the life of The Welly. I’ve decided that the best place to work is the Filling Station. It is officially the heart and soul of the business. You see everything and see everyone. It has over the years been a ‘scary’ place to work. I have no idea why.

Bikers: it’s a grand place to have a bit of biker-banter. You can’t beat it. Last week, a group came in, wet and cold. On their way to Loch Awe for a weekend away and the weekend weather was looking biblical. Crack open the Ark. I checked they had a pack of cards and booze; quite frankly, they were going to need it. Upselling at its best.

On their departure from the Filling Station, I said, “Shiny side up!” maybe I should have included, “Stay between the hedges”! Then the translation wouldn’t have got lost. One replied, “Sunny side up!” I held my breath as he left the shop. Then I had a gaffaw…. no, not talking about bloody EGGS, I’m talking about you and your bike….

Then a couple came in and commented about the AED; the Automatic External Defibrillator that’s behind the counter. I joined in the conversation, (couldn’t help myself) and said “Yep, it’s great, however, some are kept in boxes; as soon as you phone the emergency services, you are given a code to access the box to use it.” There was much interest. I then went on to say, be careful if you have to use the defibrillator for someone with an underwired bra. Puzzled look. I explained that you’d need a super strong pair of scissors to remove it. The man said, “Hell, I’ve got some bolt cutters, that will do the trick. He got called a ‘cheeky monkey’. I was in ‘polite mode’. As for his partner, she was horrified, but I did make her laugh. He blushed.

Then there’s the people that should really stick to their day job. A Ferguson’s driver (HGV, red and gold stripes) came in. He asked if there was a charge for the ATM. I said yes. He then asked if there was a minimum credit card spend. Yes, £5. He wandered off. He came back with goods (not quite to £5) and moaned that I was ‘Dick Turpin’. Don’t raise my hackles in the Filling Station. I’m likely to give both barrels. Quite calmly, I asked him why he was saying that…. he complained about the £5 minimum use of a credit card. He got the lecture. The retailer pays for every single transaction. Every one. No matter what the total is. Really? Yes, really. AND for good measure, AMEX charges more. So, if you hand us a credit card for a 50p newspaper, we still pay for that transaction. In actual fact, whatever profit (my mother in law says ‘profit’ isn’t a bad word) there is to make, there’s not any if you don’t set a threshold. That was him told. He scuffed across the forecourt, clutching his discount pie and coffee. And other things that made it up to £5.

Then, today, to top off all the stress of the day, there was a lass in the Filling Station (yep, it all happens in the FS). She was dressed in black, why that’s relevant, I don’t know. Apparently got out of a vehicle, having been hitchhiking and looked up in the sky; probably trying to work out where she was. It was much later, after a ‘double take’, that I found out more. She went to the counter to pay for goods. She took the money out, cleaned it, before giving it to the assistant. OK then. She was handed a receipt. She asked for it to be placed on the counter. OK then. I know some of my pals have OCD; especially Mike, Susan and irritatingly so, Ed. This took the biscuit. What gave me the ‘double take’? I walked in, there she was, the a napkin in hand, to hold the (potentially, and likely) dirty handle of the microwave. In her other hand, she had a pack of FROZEN, yes, I said FROZEN, fish fingers and was microwaving them. OK. Right. Erm….. um….. WTF????

I did share the observation with some of my team. Now, for those that know me, Food Hygiene is one of my areas of expertise. I was cringing. When someone told me she had come back in to use the loo, I had a mild panic. I had to check the toilet out. Thankfully, it was clean. I seriously feel sorry for the person that has to deal with the potential dose of puke that this OCD customer had. Personally, professionally, I don’t think that it will be in her system long enough for it to become diarrhoea. That’s when someone posted this on Faceache:

No debate. Shut up. Sort it!

Just in case there’s any debate, the answer is ‘B’. End of. No debate; no argument.

So, in the meantime, what’s my stress relief? Yep, my faithful pal, Smoggy. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have the release of my motorbikes. Sunday dawned, bright and cheerful. Blue sky. My biking buddy, Andy, had a hangover of biblical proportions (light weight, but sensible), so I headed out, nae mates. I wasn’t slightly bothered.

Tyndrum, Inverary, Lochgilphead, Oban, Connel. A stop at the View Cafe at Castle Stalker, Appin for lunch. Not. Heaving busy. So a pee (never pass a loo; never trust a fart) I kept going. Ballachuilish, the Kinlochleven loop, Glencoe and home to a sandwich and soup. 4 hours on the bike; just what was needed. Fresh air, Scotland in its full glory. I had a ball. Thank goodness for motorcycle therapy. It’s the best.

I know that I’m desperately needing a break, so, if any of my readers are looking for an excuse to get out, I’m your girl.