Talkative check-out assistants

Talkative check-out assistants at supermarkets need a nomination to ISAC.

A simple ‘good morning’ is sufficient. You don’t need to be asking me if I’m having a good day, or what my plans are for the weekend etc… not your business, and I know you’re not really interested anyway, so don’t ask. Just do your job and don’t keep people waiting in the queue whilst you witter.

Nominated by Mystic Maven

47 thoughts on “Talkative check-out assistants

  1. What bugs me about these cunts is when they say “do you need help bagging up?” despite there being two of us waiting to “bag up”

    To be honest I don’t mind chatting to them if I have a lot of stuff to bag up, and there’s no one else in the queue. They must be bored out of their tiny minds doing the same old shit all day long. Their choice of course, but still.

    Sometimes I can strike gold with a rather attractive hard-up (ha!) undergrad student wench (seen at Farmfoods or Iceland usually); sporting a rather tight t-shirt or low-cut blouse. So tight and curvaceous that I forget what I’m bagging up as I ogle those golden globes!

    But that’s very rare to see at the bigger supermarkets where staff have to wear standard issue uniforms, and look like extras out of The Walking Dead!

    Cunts

    • They have to ask about help with packing and it’s management that forces this that I want to twat. If I need ‘help packing’ the newspaper and sandwich I’m buying I going to go hungry because clearly there’s no fucking way I have the wherewithal to get into that sandwich later.

  2. This could be extended to most other jobs. Had the best Uber driver ever a couple of weeks ago – he didn’t say a word. Gave him five stars.

    Like Rebel, I’m only a lottery win away from starting my own political party. I decided today that this party will be the Intelligence, Secularism and Cooperation party, which has the rather fetching acronym ISAC. After careful consideration, I have decided not to offer Dick Fiddler the deputy leadership as his brand of mayhem might not go down well with some voters. Don’t worry though Dick, you are top of the list for a peerage – Baron Fiddler of Fiddler Towers in the County of Northumberland.

    Imagine being such a micro-cocked twat that you need 8,000 police and 12 tanks to protect you from the consequences of your own actions…
    https://mikesplace2017.wordpress.com/2018/12/09/picture-of-the-day-28/

    See you lot in the Champs Élysées next Saturday?

    • So.attempt to sideline a Fiddler would you? A dangerous game indeed….

      We Fiddlers have a long and inglorious history when it comes to being slighted. Indeed,we can trace our roots all the way back to the earliest,and possibly finest, “Fiddler” to a certain Judas Fiddler-Iscariot, a man who truly knew his way about a touch of skullduggery. Forty pieces of silver just for turning in The King of the Jews? Well.of course Judas Fiddler was delighted….he’d have done it for a packet of pork scratchings and a giggle..although I’ve often looked at the strangely decorated family heirloom pisspot which generations of Fiddlers have kept under the bed for nights when they were too pissed to walk to the shithouse…perhaps The Holy Grail isn’t actually lost in the mists of time? It would be typical Fiddler behaviour to have swiped a bit of silverware on his way out of The Last Supper.

      Brutus,Benedict Arnold, Guy Fawkes, Vidkun Quizling?….The Fiddler blood ran in all their veins.Unfortunately we don’t always pick the winning side,and our extensive country estates were forfeited following the catastrophic decision of Lord Henry “Gayblade” (hence the enduring Fiddler distrust of those of an “artistic” bent) Fiddler to attempt to betray King Charles to the Roundheads, an act that even Cromwell considered the act of a despicable Cad….”Ye olde Fiddler’s narrey bar a Cunt” were apparently his words on hearing of The Fiddler Plot.

      Think long and hard on your decision to try and restrain the Fiddler clan. The Border Reiver blood runs through our veins,and you may discover to your cost that the Fiddlers make a dangerous,if rather mental,enemy.

      Be sure to lock your boudoir doors for fear that The Fiddler pays you a visit.

      Fuck Off.

      • Fucking Hell, Dick, that was some response. I thought first place in the queue for the free bar that is the Lords would reconcile you to not being deputy leader of the ISAC party. I felt your special brand of extreme drunkenness and foul language would cause multiple aneurysms amongst the ‘noble’ lords thus allowing us to fill the red benches with newly ennobled cunters from this parish.

        As well as leader in the Lords, I assume you would be taking on the important role of Minister for LGBT+ Affairs. As an expert on ‘the gayness’ you were my first thought for the job. I’ve got Kravdrath pencilled in as your junior minister.

        Sorry about the noise last night, Fanny’s cries of pleasure waking up the hounds like that. If you hadn’t got us all banned from Elton’s, we could have left Fiddler Towers on a Saturday night.

      • Too late…consider your invitation to join me on Christmas Eve revoked. I had planned an entertaining evening breaking into local houses,drinking “Santa’s” sherry,ramming Rudolph’s carrot up the outraged homeowner’s arse,stealing the presents, before shitting in their tropical fish tank and moving on accompanied by a rousing chorus of “Jingle-Bells”….ah well,another family tradition that will be lost.

      • Fanny tells me most of her childhood Christmas memories are of your weird Uncle Kiddie punishing you both is various creative ways.

      • Indeed there was. The current 12th Duke of Northumberland, Ralph George Algernon Percy is a direct descendant. That side of the family was forced to renounce the “Fiddler” name after a gross act of charity when the old Duke delayed the eviction of several cripples and orphans who had been living high-on-the-hog at the local workhouse…Christmas Day off,indeed.
        However it’s apparent that the Fiddler blood still courses through the present Duke’s veins. His inflation busting raising of rents, ability to persuade “The Lottery Fund” to pay for the construction of his gardens,which he now charges the public to visit, ability to get 3 times the estimate out of the Heritage Dept. for some old bits of tat, and skill in gaining planning permission for several locally unwanted property developments proves his lineage.

        He’s a total Cunt and credit to the good name “Fiddler.”

        Morning,HBH.

      • There’s hope for Blighty yet !
        After enduring the seasonal adverts, hello, good evening, and bah humbug to you, good Sirs all ! And to the ladies likewise.

    • I just read your excellent article,Mike……

      “What is most interesting about this graph is that even well-off people in the 80th to 99th percentile are being disadvantaged by Macron’s budget in favour of the top 1% of earners. Of course, this being neoliberalism – the current name for an old lie previously known as laissez-faire, supply-side economics, Thatcherism, monetarism and trickle-down economics – it is the poorest 20% who suffer the most”

      Isn’t this pretty much what we’ve had in this country post the 20008-2009 economic crash? Everyone else paying the bill while the richest continued to get richer. I’m not saying that it would have been any better under Labour,but the idea that the Tories are the tax-cutting party for the aspirational has been proved to be a fallacy. “Austerity” and “we’re all in this together” certainly doesn’t apply to the richest in this country either.

      It’s not often that I admire the French,but, Fuck Me,they know how to do a good riot. We need the same here…a draining of the swamp.

      • Do not demur from the general thrust of your argument Dick, except to point out the Tories have at least raised the tax free allowance for individuals from £6,475 (under Labour) to £11,500 last year, and rising next year to £12,500.

        Meaning cunts earning a meagre £11,500 last year paid £1000 less in income tax under the Tories than they would have under Labour in 2008.

        My gross income was around £17,000 last year, so that extra grand came in very handy.

        That said, the obscene gap between high earners and ordinary working cunts is indeed an unacceptable state of affairs. It’s Thatcher and her bum boys Blair and Brown who are primarily to blame for this imo. I wish Commie Corbyn was the answer, but he isn’t. I’ve lived long enough to be sure of that if nothing else.

        Personally believe reformation of the voting system would go a long way to sorting much of this cuntishness out.

  3. There are some fine young lads working at my local Tesco. They wear tight trousers.One hafs the sexiest arse I have ever seen

    • Good Morning,Sir Philip.

      Still barred from Starbucks? Didn’t that used to be your stalking ground?

      • Morning Mr F.
        Sir Philip? Would it acceptable for you to elaborate upon this monicker?

      • After hearing of the exalted social circles in which Krav apparently moves, I have worked out that he is,indeed, that well-known yachtsman and pension-fund lover….Sir Philip Green.

        Morning, Mr. Cunt-Engine.

  4. It’s a double whammy
    Dealing with joe public face to face is a bit of a cunt!
    Being paid a pittance for doing so is an even bigger cunt!!
    As long as I’m keeping no one waiting I’m more than happy to pass the time of day…..
    O/P
    Just a special mention for our much maligned beret wearing snail munching Friends over la manche for Saturdays spectacular entertainment…….
    1000 detained! According to sky
    Press reports also stated macron was found hiding under a table? … 😂

    • Never fear: the mainstream media will somewhat twist the events in France in such a way that the Far Right will be blamed for Paris’ ills.

    • Given the snail-sniffing cunt’s diminutive stature (in every respect…), probably a coffee table.

  5. Beep – a carton of milk
    Beep – an apple
    Beep – a banana
    Beep – one bottle of cider
    Beep – a block of cheese

    Cashier: I bet you live on your own.
    Me: Wow, you can tell that just from my groceries?
    Cashier: No. You’re fucking ugly.

  6. This is very much a hazard of living in the Provinces where Eileen (serving) knows Doris. Not that I would know, because another hazard of working in the Provinces is that all shops close at 5 pm, thereby forcing me to shop on line or at Tescunt. Trying to get a fucking haircut was a fucking mystery in the Highlands, where scissor-wielders struggled with concept of a full-time job as they flicked through their diaries. I eventually found an Eastern European class who is willing to work til 6 to cut my hair. She is rewarded with a hefty tip. Simples.

  7. I know them, the ‘idiot savant’ types. They probably can’t speak English. Possibly can’t speak. I also hate:

    Cashier: Do you need any bags?
    Me: Do I NEED any bags?
    Cashier: Do you need any bags?
    Me: Well, my life won’t end if I don’t have them. No, I don’t ‘need’ any but I’d like some bags.

  8. Two tent wearing pirate women in a BMW 4×4 with a raspberry ripple badge seen yesterday in Tottenham. Notability finance,me thinks?

  9. Emergency cunting……..
    sorry but SKY NEWS are at it again!!
    Just seen some pollster on TV saying all polls now have clear water switch to Remain!! , apparently many people voted leave as they wanted nothing to do with Europe ( xenophobic ) , deliberate miss direction!, As he is fully aware its the EU we have a problem with not EUROPE, What a slippery cunt!, for many others it was simply a cry against the elite? , If your wondering who this sack of lying remain shit was Its Peter kellner, Oh if your unfamiliar with him he’s the former president of YOU GOV who have been working tirelessly for the best for Britain campaign since the referendum!! Every week a new dodgy survey from you gov commissioned by BFB is banded about…
    Sky have just given this wonky eyed cunt a full 10 mins to talk up 2 nd referendum! Obviously nobody was invited to challenge him…….. 😡

  10. Off Topic but I’m seething!

    The Super Injunction Marr Show doing the papers. Who do they have on, why it’s Interference Millar.

    AL-BEEB gave her 2 minutes of uninterrupted diatribe on having a second vote.

    Gisela Stuart (Vote Leave) comes on to rebutt Millar’s lies with fact and literally within 15 seconds Marr says: “And that’s all very interesting. We could spend the whole programme discussing it but we need to move on.”

    And to book-end the remoaner lies, he then allows (should have NO fucking say) Millar to wax lyrical on “… withdrawing Article 50 until we know exactly what we’re going to do…”, i.e., let’s just stay in.

    What a total, complicit, project fear cunt Marr is. Traitors gate with their entrails dangling is to good for the pair of them!

    Cunts!

  11. I have an infallible method of dealing with unwanted conversationalists that works perfectly in almost any social situation. I tell them to “Fuck Off.”….works a treat with even the most determinedly friendly jabberer.

    • Just pick any inane subject on a whim-maybe how the packet of biscuits you are buying are made and proceed to go on and on and on and on about it with your face in theirs so they don’t forget you. On and on and on remember. They then know not to engage you in the future. Problem solved.

      • I find proton precession magnetometry works well as a topic. Or climate change in the late Ordovician. It pays to be a generalist.

      • Brilliant, you’re a proper cunts’ cunt I see!
        Reminds me of the scene in “The Ipcress File” where Dr Radcliffe, newly returned from his brainwashing by the Albanian cunts, repeatedly babbles “a new meson production method, a new meson production method…” to the horror of the assembled academic cunts in the lecture hall.
        Works wonders in my local branch of Marks & Cuntsters or J Cuntbury’s: very much on your wavelength.

  12. The worst is “do you need a bag today?”

    Today?????

    No, of course not, I’ll cram it all down my trousers and come back for a bag tomorrow, you stupid twat.

    • At least you have that option. You get to bring your own or buy one in my town. No shit.

  13. While we’re on the subject of supermarkets, the cunts who annoy me most are the ones who take their groceries to the cigarette / lottery counter and make everybody wait behind them because they think they’re too good to queue at the checkout. Selfish bastards.

    • Or the cunts with a week’s worth of groceries who decide to clog up the 10 Items or Less line. Like it’s OK. It’s not OK. If you can’t count, then you shouldn’t be handling money. If you can’t read, then you shouldn’t be buying groceries.

      Two possible solutions:
      1. Checkout person shoots them in the face for being a stupid cunt.
      2. Add a 20 quid surcharge to their bill for using the wrong line.

      Any other suggestions?

      • Tough one. This seems to generate a lot of trouble in supermarket queues, particularly when it’s done deliberately. What I love is when the checkout asst. has the balls to point out to the twat that they’re in the wrong lane, and will have to take their laden trolley to the right one. The twat will immediately go ballistic, and of course other shoppers pile in on the side of the asst, with words of encouragement to the twat such as ‘stop acting like a total cunt’. Superb to watch as the twat is then forced to shuffle off, muttering and mumbling.

      • Wait until they’ve emptied the contents of there zeppelin sized trolley on the belt,then fuck off for a teabreak leaving them to wait or reload and move to another till.

      • Badger the fuck out of the store managers and their social medias and their Google reviews (and Yelp, I guess, if that’s a thing in your parts) and insist they enforce their cunting rules. Snap pics/vids of the shit in action, too, so you have evidence. It won’t do much in the short term, but it can get results after enough pressure’s applied.

  14. I think this loosely falls into the ‘forced socialising’ category which I hate. If I want to say good morning or whatever to someone, that should be my choice (which I mostly choose not to do because most people are cunts).

    What really boils my piss about checkout people is when they say, “Did you find everything you needed?”. Presumably if I said “no”, they’d get on the store’s public address system, rally some troops who’d track down my missing items and bring them to me at the till while everyone else behind me waited. Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works so why even ask? I’ve made an adult and informed decision to hit the checkout with or without everything I came in for so shut the fuck up, scan my items as quick as you can and let me get out of here without the fucking small talk.

    Sorry you’re a checkout person, but that’s your choice and it’s not my job to help you pass the time by engaging in pointless trivia.

    • The absolute worst are the ones who need to comment or ask questions about every other fucking item they scan, especially if it’s an “odd” bit of produce or a spice/bulk item they never seen, much less used because they’re basic bitches who probably don’t know how to cook anything whose instructions go beyond ‘toss into a microwave/conventional oven, remove after Xmins.” That’s why I try very hard to have someone with me when I’m forced to shop so they can run interference on these cunts and I’m not obligated to waste valuable calories curbing my rage.

  15. It would make a change to be so engaged by the hijab wearing cunts who work on the checkouts in our local Morrison’s. They look as though they resent being in the same building as you, refuse to engage, and can barely bring themselves to say ‘thank you’ when they take your cash. Bunch of cunts.

  16. ALL shops are sheer cuntery. You couldn’t crowbar me out of clothes shops when I was a teenager, but nowadays I would rather stick forks in my myopic eyeballs than trawl around the fuckers.

    Yep, I too would also rather the cashiers kept it business as usual and not ask me about my ‘plans for the weekend’ or if I am ‘having a nice day’.

    The answers would be :
    = Fuck all as usual, except watching re-runs of ‘Judge Judy’ whilst working my way through a stockpile of chocolate and Pinot.
    = No, actually, but I will be once I leave this cunt shop.

    I want in and out as fast as humanly possible when shopping, especially at this time of year.Annoying fuckwits are EVERYWHERE…..babymamas with their buggies up your asshole, vague looking wombles stopping in the middle of aisles with their shopping on wheels dragging half an hour behind them, traumatised looking men loitering around the lingerie section wondering what the fuck a ‘teddy’ is, and wondering why the fuck they can’t just get it in a toy shop and the cuntery list goes on.

    Thank fuck for the wonders of internet ordering, so I don’t have to venture too much into this high street twattery.

  17. A few years back, I had to stop at a grocery store on the way to work for some bullshit event at work that day (someone’s birthday most likely). It was the Monday after a high impact weekend so I was essentially in asocial autopilot mode. Anyway, I got to the checkout and the cashier was a chipper-perky hambeast with gappy teeth and what appeared to be a Joker grin permanently botoxed to her bloated mug. I responded to her good morning politely, even muttered ‘fine’ in response to how I was doing.
    The cunt decided I wasn’t sufficiently engaging or whatever and pressed “So how was your weekend?! Did you do anything fun?!”
    Me – “No, not really…” careful with my tone to indicate I wasn’t trying to be friends.
    Cunt – “Reeeaally? You didn’t do anything fun?”
    Me, deadpan and looking directly into her pupils – “DRUGS. AND. SODOMY.”

    Her smile went brittle and she didn’t respond, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t shut the fuck up and hurry me along. This is how to handle these cunts, you’re welcome.

    • 😂 Brilliant.

      I have often wondered how these irritating minions would respond if one actually DID reply with something honest and eye-opening instead of the usual sociable shite we normally just spew out:

      ‘How are you today?’ they ask.
      We say: Yes, I’m fine
      We REALLY want to say: Just stop fucking talking to me please, scan my shit and let me fucking pay and leave, cuntwaffle.

      It is all such fake twattery from these cashier cunts.

    • I am actually sorry for some of these cunts, because it seems likely that they are required to behave like this by their godawful management. If you can get out of my local Spar without being instructed to have a good day, you have my undiluted respect.

      ‘And how do we bond with the customer, Team?’
      ‘Eye contact, big smile, ask them about their day.’
      ‘That’s RIGHT. Well done. So…why do we want to bond with our customer?’
      ‘ So he’ll think we’re friends and buy more stuff he doesn’t need from us.’
      ‘Would you like to go on the management course, Milly?’

  18. No-one has yet mentioned the fact that those auto checkout machines also talk at you. In a voice which is almost inaudible above the screaming of chavspawn, manager swearing, shelf full of assorted olive oils* collapsing, etc. Should you make any sense of its instructions, you find that it is telling you to do what you did 30 seconds ago, namely call the manager over to make it work properly.

    ‘Technology’ cunt.

    * I wish you joy in your quest for lard.

  19. Beep – a carton of milk
    Beep – an apple
    Beep – a banana
    Beep – one bottle of cider
    Beep – a block of cheese

    Cashier: Are those twins
    Her: No, they are not even the same age, why would you ask this?
    Cashier: I just did’t think anybody would fuck you twice!

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