Hullo sir, I said. Please can I have some women’s period pads? The man looked at me and said, ‘you can get them’, they are just there on the shelves. It looked like they were in the contraband section of the cigarettes and other items served by the newsagent.
Sure enough I found there was a thin isle way which I was able to walk through and crouch down to buy the period pads.
I had abit of a joke with the male cashier, about how it’s every mans worst nightmare, being asked to be involved in purchasing period products.
On my walk back, whilst eating my value chocolate bar, I saw three men, stood behind a white van, which I assume obscured the CCTV in the area, they looked like they were doing some swap of something. I assumed, maybe drugs, and carried on walking.
I arrived home and I’d asked for some black scribbling on the wall to be removed. And the council got rid of my nice stickers too.
I rang the council and a friendly lady answered, although she sounded Scottish which confused me because I was phoning Bristol. She sent me the link to the complaints page.
And at work today, two staff walked into our office saying they needed a ball for the physio exercises. I threw one away last time that was badly broken. Maybe no one ordered a fresh one. I told the manager as she came in, to sort out the folder in the storage cupboard. Urm and ahh she said, then agreed, if the staff keeps telling other staff who aren’t authorised to buy items for the clients, then we will never get a new ball. She said she’ll try to order one, having listened to my suggestion (from other staff who wouldn’t say to the person who could order one).
A large red paint brush was out on the table unattended. ‘Quick’ I said, ‘someone get it’, ‘before someone else picks it up and it’s all over my coat’.
Another lady said, don’t do other people’s jobs, it’s Tanecka’s job to put away the paint activity.
Keeping my distance safely away from the table I managed the complete the day.
Achieving – some value chocolate bars, period stuff.
Losing – stickers, my temper briefly about the stickers
Trying to look for the ball
Held onto the cleanliness of the coat.
Didn’t do a citizen’s arrest of the suspected drug dealing. Well isn’t drug busting a man’s job? Or at least more stress than I can deal with in one walk home and day at work.
One thought on “Men and women’s lives inner city short stories”