‘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.
Other Articles in this Series:
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
‘Some kids are best left to fend for themselves, and others were born to stack shelves’ – Steven Wilson
Chapter Twelve: The Death of Mort
'WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE BELOW'
Months passed and the endless tedium persisted. Having Naggy about helped a lot but it wasn’t enough.
Something was missing in my life and that something was a woman. I was a stock lad on heat and unlike last Christmas when I knew nobody, it was going to be different this year.
The Human League was topping the UK Top 40 with "Don't you want me" and I was feeling the same.
Source
...'I felt just like Phil without the dumping, but it was going to be different this year.. I could feel it in my errr... loins'...
I needed someone to want me, and I could empathise with Phil Oakey except I had not been dumped by a waitress in a cocktail bar.
Where was the love and romance in my life? I had some ideas that would change things and, yes… these plans were going to work!
Even at Kwiksave under the strict tyranny of Mort, the season of goodwill was always going to bring something new and it happened when that miserable cunt happened to have a day off.
An ‘illegal’ mini party was quickly planned in the upstairs semi-derelict canteen with everyone invited.
This consisted of Sid, the CarpetSave dudes, and the entire Kwiksave staff which amounted to around a dozen people with the LiquerSave ladies abstaining as they were 'too busy for the likes of us pions'.
I was casually hanging around, looking bored with Naggy and then I spotted her…, the lustful figure of Sharon looking like a goddess.
Source
...'a quick shot was all I needed for that dutch courage. I was going to use my tongue on her... oh yes I was'...
Downing a quick shot of lemonade, I gathered up as much courage as I could muster and boldly walked up to her.
“How about a Christmas kiss”, I said with a shy smile, fingering those 70's curls of mine with my finger and thumb.
One second later I found myself deep-throating this voracious young raven-haired supervisor with an elongated kiss lasting around half a minute.
“Want another?”, she said with that toothy grin after what I thought was a reluctant pull-away.
Of course, I did, but that is where it ended. Sharon drifted off into the merriment giving out the same deal to most of the CarpetSave blokes, much to my dismay.
Spotting Marianne, I tried the same strategy. She was not so keen and did not refuse, but pulled away when I attempted my legendary tongue-jamming technique.
“For god sake, get yourself a girlfriend”, she scolded and walked off.
Source
...'to pull a chick you had to kiss well and what better technique than jamming your tongue down their throats?'...
Not to be dissuaded Linda was next who also agreed to my suggestion of the tiniest of Christmas kisses.
My tongue quickly jammed its way down Linda’s throat, who did not pull away but looked utterly bewildered, flushed red, and seemed a mite embarrassed by what had happened.
Dammit…, I was out of women to snog and nothing had come of it. I left down-hearted and sulked like a grumpy bear all the next day sniffing at my misfortune.
The bad times were about to come to an end when I got wind of a rumour. Marianne, who had seemingly forgiven me for my lewd antics just a few days before told me that Mort had left the building.
"Mort has left the building, What do you mean?", I asked in a state of confusion.
“He’s gone”, she said, “He’s been sacked”
It hit me like a train. MORT SACKED, who, why, what had happened?
Source
...'now you know where the inspiration for Mort the Shit Manager: 'Oxidation'
came from'...
"He's been caught stealing knives, forks, plates, and spoons from the canteen", she continued in that down to earth manner typical of her.
The cutlery in the canteen looked like it was from the 1960s. Old bent rusty forks, chipped cups, and cracked plates. What the fuck was Mort thinking?
Who had sacked Mort? He was the store manager of this branch, so it must have been that Area Manager bloke, Elton Welsby.
Just who was the snitch, was it Sharon? There was little love lost between the two of them and I had seen the subtle dislike on her face at times.
My admiration blossomed despite her getting off with all those Carpet blokes, and the badly blackened incisor?
Source
...'I had tasted no badness during those long lush kisses while brushing up to her while badly failing to contain a quickly growing boner which she must have noticed'
I was never to find out any more about the demise of Mort. It was all so hush-hush, and even Sharon would not say anything giving me nothing but a wink.
I skipped down the aisles wooting and tooting with renewed vigour knowing Mort’s career at Kwiksave was finished. I never saw or heard from him again.
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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