On Christmas Eve 2014, I was working a 13 hour shift at Sainsburys (a supermarket), my job role was the girl with the trolley who reduces all of the food that is going out of date that day, and gets bombarded with customers who want all of the bargains at the last minute. So as we don’t open on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, I was required to reduce and sell everything that was dated 24th-26th December. So you can imagine how busy I was, and how many customers were surrounding me attacking my trolley for the £1 turkeys and Christmas puddings.
During December, it’s a requirement for the employees to get into the Christmas spirit and replace our purple jackets with Christmas jumpers – Which by the way I would happily do all year round as I love Christmas! I had nipped to primark to grab a Christmas jumper to wear for work that wasn’t rediculously expensive, I bought one for a discounted price but it was a size too big – I didn’t mind because i like my jumpers to be a bit more cosy and baggy.
Anyways, so it was coming up to the end of my shift, around 5pm and I was plodding along with my trolley reducing everything, grabbing all of the vegetables and getting them snatched out of my hand by the customers before I could even put the reduction sticker on. When a regular customer came in, he pops in most days to check out the deals, and we always have a little chat, he walked towards me and suddenly turned in the other direction and walked away. I thought it was strange, did I have something in my teeth? Shrugging it off, I carried on with my job, then a voice on the tannoy instructed all of the till trained colleagues to go to the checkouts. I made my way to a till and served a few customers, they all seemed so happy, which I thought was weird considering its Christmas Eve and everyone is rushing around stressing over last minute presents and finding a turkey. I just put it down to Christmas spirit and smiled along.
After the manic 13 hours was up, I headed out to my mum who was waiting in the car with her Christmas music so loud I could hear Mariah Carey’s voice from the other end of the car park, with the windows up (My mum loves Christmas almost as much as I do)! I put the bargains I grabbed for myself in the boot, and hopped into the car, singing along to the classic number one as I put on my seat belt. When I look across and notice my mother in stitches.
“What?…. what is it? Are you laughing at my singing?” I asked. Laughing to hard to say anything, my mother carried on with her heckles for a few minutes before she could gather her words. “Please tell me you haven’t been looking like that all day?” And pointed to my chest…
Yep, that’s right, boob out. Half my bra on show. I looked down and noticed the rip in the jumper, it had ripped open at some point during my shift. And I had 1 cup on show to everyone in the store. It suddenly all made sense, why the customers were so happy, why Mr Jackson turned away. What makes it worse? My jumper was a Christmas tree with the words “Merry Christmas ya filthy animal” at the bottom.
Humiliated, I turned purple and it took me a few minutes to see the funny side. I felt a little better when I got home and saw it myself, as the jumper was red and my bra was red, it wasn’t too noticeable unless you get a good look.
But for a few weeks after, I did dread going into work incase I saw a customer I remembered, my family would joke and call me filthy animal a few times to remind me of the embarrassment. And I haven’t seen Mr Jackson as much since that day. I had learned my lesson to buy good quality jumpers from then on!
Love Kays X