To the cheerful and helpful lady who served me on the checkout at Tesco this morning,
Thank you for not offering to help me despite me being visibly heavily pregnant, obviously in pain and out of breath.
Thanks for putting every item of my shopping right next to you so you didn’t have to stretch your arms or move your person at all, while I had to uncomfortably push my bump up against the side of the checkout and painfully stretch to reach each item.
Thank you for sighing at me and sitting there staring while I struggled to pack quick enough for you. Please note if you actually pushed the items down the checkout instead of dumping them adjacent to the scanner you’d have more room to keep scanning. This would still only require minimal movement from you.
I think it is not unreasonable to assume that you go home from your shift every day feeling unsatisfied, short tempered and bitter. Perhaps cracking a smile or being at all helpful might increase your enjoyment of your role or at least make you a half decent person.
Thirty-five weeks pregnant and in more pain than before I arrived, thanks to you.