I've had a rather irritating encounter with the surveillance culture. Apparently, if the CCTV spots you putting things into your own bag, they have to send someone after you on the suspicion that you're a shoplifter with a bourgeois taste in cheese - even if this person only catches up with you as you're paying for your purchases and is hence a bit sheepish about the whole thing. Bah. If I'm going to be gratuitously hassles about the contents of my bag, I'd rather the Marxist tracts than the cheese, thanks.
But anyway, it gave me a thought.
S'it a guid job? Aye, wiel, s'indoors oot ae the weather an naw heavy liftin, cannae argue wi tha'. Thare's worse jobs gaun, A can tell ye. A s'pose A cud hae bin on the roads, mebbe, or some shite like tha'. Ye knaw. Bluidy rainin oan ye hauf the time, an the noise, ohh, A couldna bear it, ye'd niver get tae sleep for five minutes. An wee shites chuckin footbaws at ye day in day oot, and the spray-paint, ye ken? Tha's naw life.
Mind, cud be a bit more excitin' nor it is here, A s'pose. Wi chases an tha'? Mebbe a twelve-car pileup noo an again? Actually, mind, while A'm day-dreamin A'd rether be in the films. Ye'd have aw chases and pile-ups gaun on in front o ye aw the time, an wi'oot the rain an the wee shites wi footbaws. An actress lassies an so oan.
But s'niver a bad job, tell the truth. A'm naw badly aff, an a widn't be paid ony more for bein a movie-camera or whatnot, either. Efter ye're inside it's the same all ower, really, this kind o work. Ye get to thinkin aboot the wee things in yer position. A mean, A've plenty o time for thinkin.
Course A'm no vera popular wi ma colleagues. They say A breath doon everbody's necks. Say it in front o me as wiel, which A think is rether tactless. While A'm listening, ye ken? Disna make ye feel great. If A wis in a bank-vault people wid mebbe show some respect - but that'd be dull as fuck. An a ken a thing or two aboot dull.
Cud esk for a better view. Cud esk for more action, too. A've actually taken to just watchin folk. Thare's people, ye knaw, who buy the exact same stuff iver week? Seems bluidy stupit tae me. If A cud walk aboot the place A widn't be gaun the same way aw the time. But thare's ither stuff. Drunks are a laugh. They're awmost the awnly yins that try shopliftin as wiel. An folk buyin things tae startle the check-oot lassies. Ye knaw? Like a condom an a cucumber.
An somebody daes lift somethin noo an again. A'm kind o hopin they'll get awa, actually. S'naw ma problem, A've daen ma bit. An it's a change.
A s'pose a wonder what they're gonnae dae wi it, whativer they nick, A mean. Oot thare.
Onyway, carry oan. Niver mind me. If ye mind me, A'm daen a bad job.
*heartstrings*
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