In my last blog I mentioned the fact that I had worked for a grocery/department store--don't even know if it still exists. It was called Giant Foods and had been developed from the Benner Tea Company--owned by Charles Fitsmorris--(remember that name)...
Anyway, I first started working for this company when I was 16, and still in highschool. It was a great training company, and as a result I became someone in that store who was confident and really enjoyed my job--I don't ever remembering any negative management issues. At one stage, when Mr Fitsmorris was developing and selling his computerised ordering system to overseas companies, he and a group of Swedish businessmen happened to be in 'my' store--and happened to go through my grocery lane. In those days, regulations were followed strictly, and when he tried to write a cheque to pay for purchases, I, of course, asked him for identification. He was a bit shocked, but handed over his driver's licence. (I always hated doing this process, felt it was an invasion of privacy, but understood why it was necessary at the time.) Anyway, I looked at his driver's license and wrote down the necessary license number details on the back of his cheque. While doing so, I commented that not only did I come from Swedish heritage to his guests, but that this man's name was also the same name which appeared on my paychecks--isn't that the strangest coincidence!
They all stood and looked at me for a few seconds, then smiled, took their purchased items and moved on. I wished them a good day, and cheerfully moved onto my next customer. I did not know that he really was my boss-just thought it coincidental.
Apparently I impressed Mr Fitsmorris, as he made comments to my Manager on how I was to be commended for following store policy regardless of the person in front of me. In the years to follow, he presented me with many good opportunities and always looked after my employability status during the months I was back in my hometown from study at the university. As the years rolled on I would always have a job 'created' for me for the Summer months.
One particular Summer I was the official store security guard, who was responsible for catching shop-lifters. I had a 'spy' room, complete with video cameras and screens, in my special loft above the store, and as I dressed in normal street clothes for this job, I would then walk the floors as a shopper. During this time I caught some very funny cases---but also some very scary ones. My next story will be about one of the scary ones...
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