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My first job was at a New World supermarket.
I was hired as a 'packer'. Packing groceries. Hence the name of the job. Supermarkets are pretty awesome and creative like that with naming jobs and things. Guess what they call trolley boys?
The guy that owned the supermarket decided pretty early on that I was retarded. It may have had something to do with me packing pool chemicals in a bag with someone's silverbeet once. They rang and complained because the pool chemicals leaked all through their silverbeet and they could have died or something.
After being tagged as a low-performace lemon with no promotional opportunites, I was given the job of looking after the toilet rolls, tissue boxes and paper towels. Sometimes I would make a fort out in the warehouse with the pallets of paper towels and have a little 20 minute power nap. I didn't mind stacking the toilet rolls. It's just like a big game of spongey tetris without the architectural challenge. We had to wear this fugly light blue 50's housewife smock with a red zip. Thankfully it was pre-mobile phone days so no images exist of this horrific sight and therefore, it never happened. My manager was called Wendy and she was angry all the time. Probably because she worked full-time doing something that a punk 14-year old kid like me couldn't even be arsed doing.
I don't know why I'm telling you this.
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