I HEART GREED!

I approached the carpark, unnerved by the chaos. It was full of abandoned cars, as if reports of a flaming meteorite had been broadcast sending people insane with fear and fleeing their vehicles. I managed to find a space and thrust my car in quickly. As I walked towards the store I saw angry faces behind steering wheels, grimacing at the behaviour of other drivers. The cars that were abandoned, on double yellows and over two parking spaces, were all 4x4s or some other status symbol - shiny, sleek cars that speak of a desire to forget one's mortality in a luxurious bubble bath of greed. If you're disabled and want to shop, forget it, some fully functional rich woman in a Merc deserves the charity of a special parking spot much more than you.

Christ, moral outrage is an ugly emotion, but I'm locked into it tonight. Once installed on my till I become an actor, smiling, joking, being nice. All the time I'm petrified of drowning in a sea of spittle. Old ladies licking their fingers to access the bags, licking their fingers to withdraw bank-notes, licking their fingers for no reason whatsoever. I picture the spit of a thousand strangers, glowing around me, transmitting disease and filth. And the amount of plastic that they use. They don't care. They are old. The world will end long after their silicon enhanced skin rots. One bag per item seems to be the order of the day. Fuck the ice caps. They are chewing up the world even before they turn the key in the ignition of their Audi 4x4s. All they are lacking is an "I HEART GREED!" bumper sticker.

The Company is no different. A few days ago a manager pulled me off the till and took me off the shop floor.
"I have noticed you are not selling the company credit card," she said, completely straight faced. "You need to do that to every customer." She emphasised the word "every" with a pointed finger, directly at my name badge.
"It makes me feels a little uncomfortable," I said, in all honesty.
"It's part of your job to do it," she replied forcefully.
"I find it morally dubious," I said.
"Just do it." With that clichéd corporate slogan I was dismissed from the uncomfortable tête-à-tête.
I still do not advertise this. If I wanted to sell credit cards I'd be back at the airport with the Two Fake Tits, asking people if they "liked the football". I can act many things, but I cannot even pretend to be a company stooge.

I apologise for my tone this evening. It would have been better maybe if the chaos hadn't been caused by the promise of a free bottle of wine to customers. When a reasonable person would ask "Is it really worth it?" these greedheads head into battle, as if the word "FREE" absolves them of the guilt of being greedy. We live in a Deal or No Deal society. People want the most, and will work themselves up into a tearful stress if they can't get it. Res Ipsa Loquitur.