‘The Horrors of Kwiksave’ is a candid recollection of my memories working at Kwiksave (the now-defunct discount supermarket chain) as a 'Stock Lad'.
I wasted over FOUR years of my life in this maggot-infested hellhole and still occasionally wake up drenched in sweat after enduring a nightmare in which I am working there still.
Some of the names have been slightly changed simply to save my arse in case anyone takes offence at some of the details regarding my facts or opinions.
Many of the people mentioned are now dead as this happened so long ago, but their siblings are not.
This is the 'HIVE Special Edition' of a multi-part autobiographical story (with a little over-embellishment on some of the details) I posted on STEEM over 2 years ago.
It contains a LOT more detail and content than the original and will fill in many gaps that were missed the first time around.
Chapter One: A Prelude to the Best Job in the Land
Chapter Two: The Job Centre
Chapter Three: The Interview
Chapter Four: Christmas is Coming
Chapter Five: The Changing of the Blades
Chapter Six: The Staff
Chapter Seven: The Auxiliary Staff and The Load
Chapter Eight: The Sugar Maniac
Chapter Nine: The Accusation and "Big Lad"
Chapter Ten: Naggy
Chapter Eleven: Shit & Noise
Chapter Twelve: The Death of Mort
Chapter Thirteen: The Time of Many Managers
'WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE BELOW'
The sudden departure of Mort was a wondrous, joyous moment, not just for me but for all the staff.
The forbidding oppressive atmosphere was lifted, and akin to the departure of an evil Necromancer; it felt almost like a normal job. I say ‘almost’ as it was still Kwiksave, and that would never be any better than tolerable.
...'in the early 80's you got your Job from the Job Centre, and that was the same for YOP's, but they got half the pay for exactly the same work'...
By January, Naggy’s stint as a YOP was finished and he also left as Kwiksave were too tight-arsed to offer him a permanent job. He was adequate at best as a Stock Lad and his dimness did not do him any favours.
Every week, it seemed a new manager would arrive and then leave just a few days later. Some days there was no manager at all and those were the best times of all.
I knew my job only too well but as a renegade Stock Lad, completely devoid of ambition I also needed to be told to ‘stack the shelves’ else I would rather make a big hole in a pallet of bog rolls and go to sleep in the back-shop.
…’life as a Stock Lad was hard work and I needed my beauty sleep, preferably while being paid’…
Kwiksave quickly replaced Naggy with ‘Boy’ who previously worked for CarpetSave, was ending his YOP scheme, and also needed to be released.
Why they chose 'Boy' over 'Naggy', who had six months' experience of being an underpaid Kwiksave slave I will never know.
‘Boy’ (real name Iain) to me was a suitable replacement as I got on well with him. He hung around in the Kwiksave derelict canteen occasionally and we had gelled some.
I can recall only TWO of the ‘many managers', though there were probably eight or nine over the next nine months that frequented the store on some kind of rotational basis.
They were all young and none of them came close to being the motherfucker that Mort had been. I remember only two of them as these guys visited more frequently than any others.
Andy Haworth was at a guess around 21 years old, fair-haired with a moustache made out of bum fluff, and worked alongside the stock lads like some kind of equal.
Source
He was a fan of metal music, especially AC/DC and you would hear "Touch Too Much" or some other track thundering out of his car at 175 decibels before you could see it, trundling along the road and into the back shop car park area every morning.
I owe to him for influencing me into the Bonn Scott material, such as ‘Highway to Hell’ and many other tracks by the band.
Pete West, we knew of by reputation before he even arrived. Where the intelligence came from I can't remember, but do remember what it entailed.
In truth, he could be a real bastard but was reasonably fair most of the time. He had an eighties overlong black moustache, a centre parting of slightly greasy straight hair which he often flicked back and a slight gap between his incisors.
Strangely, I can still visualise someone from almost 40 years ago.
...'Pete West had a stupidly overlong moustache similar to this freaky look'...
We did share music as a common theme which was fortunate for me, but I also remember him once giving me a huge bollocking for being late one afternoon.
The love of music was forgotten and he was screaming at me, spit emitting from his mouth, red-faced, and seriously getting in my personal space.
There was no shortage of the word ‘fuck’ when Pete West was angry.
Lucky for me he was not a person to hold grudges and it was all forgotten about the next day.
Having vacated Carpetsave, ‘Boy’ seemed to lose his old nickname of ‘Boy’ that Clive had given him and gained a new one, ‘Welder’.
I am straining to remember where the name originated from but its definition was never in question. Now how can I put this…., his ‘welding equipment’ was kind of next to his balls, does that make things crystal clear?
‘Welder’ was not the brightest spark, though in a completely different way than ‘Naggy’. He didn’t appear to be fazed by this new name and so it stuck.
To be continued...
Cover Picture is a combination of free sources from here and here, combined and edited with Luminar 4. Any unsourced images are my own.
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