Friday, 31 July 2015

On taking sixteen bags to the Charity Shop

Staggered into local charity shop with ten bags of books this morning.
In bright voice to brisk lady behind the counter,
'Would you like these? I do have rather a lot.'
Realise that I sound like Margo from 'The Good Life.'
'I've only the two pair of 'ands,' says the brisk lady, who appears to be very cross. I'm not sure if it's my books, my Margo voice or the fact that she is battling with the price gun.
'Right,' I say, and think about asking where I should leave the books, or does she actually want the books, or should I sidle out again and try the other charity shop down the street.
I try again. Nice and polite.
'Shall I leave them here by the door at the back?'
'You can't go in the back. 'Ealth and Safety.' She glares at me, beady eyed,  price gun raised.
'OK, well, I'll leave them here, shall I?' I am determinedly polite, although my cheeks are beginning to ache with all the smiling. Perhaps I should just look as bloody cross as she is.
She doesn't answer, just crosses the shop and takes the bag from where I have put it on the floor.
I go back outside, across the road and down the street, where my car is waiting, boot gaping open like a landed fish.
I drag in another four bags, fingers cut through by the thin plastic handles.
'I've got some more!' I beam at the lady.
She looks positively fuming. Oh, dear.
I attempt to placate her again.
'Would you like me to take these books away? I don't want to burden you with them.'
She grimaces. 'We tike the yellow ones and put them out the back in the recycling.'
For a moment I feel rather like grimacing back. 'I don't think there are ANY yellow books in my bags, unless you mean, of course, Yellow Pages?'
She looks a bit blank.
Out I go. Across the road, down the street. My car boot gapes open, and I retrieve the last of the bags of books. There are six bags of Daughter's clothes. I pick up three. I hope she folded them all nicely. I can't be bothered at this moment to check. Back I go. Lady doesn't look up. I dump the bags and go and collect the last of Daughter's clothes and a brand new dog lead that we don't want. It's supposed to stop dogs pulling but kept getting in our dog's eyes. It is bright red, and very new looking. I hope that she'll be pleased with THIS, at least.
In I go. Heaving and panting with the last of the bags.
She barely looks up now, but grabs a bag from my hand and puts it by the door.
'Oh, I brought this.' I hold up the red lead.
'What's that?' she asks,' Is it a muzzle?'
'No, no! It's a dog lead that stops them pulling but it didn't work on our dog.'
'Does it go across their face and into their eyes?' she asks.
I am delighted. We seem to be getting on much better!
'Yes, yes! It goes over their nose and across their...'
She cuts across my explanation.  'Goes in their eyes. Very bad for them. They can't see.' And with that she walks away to the counter, grabbing the price gun, as if she would like to shoot me with it.
Well. Am by now feeling that I shouldn't have bothered carrying in sixteen bags of stuff but had thrown them at force through the door and scarpered.
I muster up the last bit of good will.
'Well, I'll see you soon. Bye! Have a good day!' The good will is almost killing me. I rake up a smile and nail it to my face.
She doesn't look up and I leave the shop.
For some reason I am filled with giggles. A lesser mortal would have clocked her one.
But needs must, and all that. I'll be back there with another sixteen bags next Saturday after clearing out another bedroom or two. Must make sure that one bag is heaving with yellow books.
And perhaps will take my own price gun with me. Pistols at dawn, and that sort of thing.
Might make the headlines.
'Charity Shop Drama. Local woman covered in £1.99.'
Hummpphhh.

8 comments:

Expat mum said...

Kill 'em with kindness, the miserable buggers!

Karen said...

You'd think they'd be grateful wouldn't you, but I've had similar responses when dropping things off, as though I've foisted bags full of dirty nappies on them, and left the shop feeling somehow guilty. Madness. You were very restrained.

We used to get a lot of books donated to the library where I worked, and the only ones we wouldn't accept were those smelling strongly of cigarettes!

Clippy Mat said...

Hilarious. As always. I loved reading this. So funny and spot on.

Strawberry Jam Anne said...

I've got some filling of charity bags to do this coming weekend but I shall take them to the local Hospice shop who are always so appreciative. But I do have experience of the other kind!

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New reader of your blog and find it interesting and funny as well. Need to bookmark your blog to read more such interesting blogs. Thank you for sharing it

kold_kadavr_ flatliner said...

Believe-you-me, dear,
you SHALL get thy reward Upstairs.
Jesus didn't say...
I'LL MAAAYBE GIVE A REWARD
TO THOSE WHO ARE GIVING...
nope, dear.
Jesus sed...
EYE HAS NOT SEEN,
EAR HAS NOT HEARD
NOR HAS IT EVEN ENTERED
INTO THE HEARTS OF MEN
how much I shall give to
those who love Me...
and you show THAT very simple fact
by supporting those who dont have
enough of the basic clothing.
Bravo!!
Meet me Upstairs, lil one.
I wanna kiss your feets
for walking this far fulla faith...
I. Love. You.
in Jesus Name.

kold_kadavr_ flatliner said...

Dunno if you saw this before...
yet, here it is once moe, curly:

Greetings, earthling! Need summore new-fangled-thots N ideers? Look no firdr, brudda. Can't stay long. Done gotta git, Paw... yet, if Im a sower, we plant the Seed; if Im an artist, we RITE the Word:

Would U please help a plethora of King Size, wildchild, rawkuss poetry/wordz which are lookin 4 a home in thy novelty?? Thx. Whew. They're pretty insane. They're bereft of reason. Oi! Blimey! They're bloody PINK spiders!

Gotta gobba lotta shrewd, surreal, supersonic, sardonic satires, sassy N savvy elixers N electronic elegance (and palpable nuance) on our YOUTHwitheTRUTH blogs. Wannum? Have'm. N'joym. Gettm outta my hair!!!

How mucha wanna betcha our sugar-high-mojo, pleasure-beyond-measure, fuse-blowin-exploits R a copious madhouse of one lavish bookay D.O.A.? Our proFUSE NRGod who leads U.S. to explosive fairy-tales in the 'one-stop-shop' symphony Upstairs? God's the BigDude, the Owner of ElysianFields, the Grand Prize, the Austere Overdrive, NoPurchaseNecessary: our bombastic tenaCITY on a Hill which'll plant the Seeds 4u2 grow-up to new N greater heights!! Mama mia! Thatsa good pasta!!

CAUTION: our 22ish, avant-guard, accurately-atrocious, offa-the-reservation-like-Jimmy-Hoffa, metal breadcrumms R sooo out-of-order, toots, they're an intimate wealth of bottomless sophistication. And dats da lethal fak, Jak. Go ahead. Sue me. Yawn. But, yet, here's the perennial KOO D'TAH: who else has actually SEEN the Great Beyond in spirit & lived to tella youse bout the bionic, bloated, brevity-like-earth we're living on?? Yes, earthling, Im an NDE, almost salivating4salvation. So gain altitude, never attitude: death has no intrinsick favorites.

If Mr. abSUREditty's an ultra-great-reward, and not everyone enters, Q: why is it an excruciating deluge of epic-.357-caliber where the quality's a limitless bulldozer plowin, pushin-your-power-cord with eternal goodies? A: the Prize-A+-TheEnd just gives U.S. moe-curley-graphix 2 VitSee: an explosion-of-extravagance which few R asking 4 anymore! Grrr. They're too concerned withe grotesque sanity of ambivilant piss-ants which swiftly crawl like lemmings to their scorecard destruction. C'est la guerre.

THANK GAWWWD!!! the Don has the ebullient BAWLS!!! to do the Manifest Destiny!!! To lead U.S. forward to the White House Upstairs with his SQUARES!!!

So, break-free, earthling; be like a contraversial outgrowth of incredibly-intoxicating-effusiveness in your zeitgeist to give the ultimate, stunning, backknuckle potency: Wiseabove. Wanna join this useFULL idiot Upstairs 4 the most zany, kooky, X-acto-knife antidotes? Extremely exquisite, explicit endorphins in abundance? Puh-lenty of pulverizingly-tantalizing psychopathic psychosomatics with eXtras? i2i-kick-velocity's-ass-ultra-maximum-rocket-fuel-party-hardy at my pad ya ever encountered without d'New Joisey accent 4 an eternal slew of precarious, magnanimous & primeval absurdities indelibly etched in the granite corridors of eternity with a total-barrage-of-melt-in-thy-mouth 'depth-of-undenial'???

Make Your Choice  -SAW
...cuzz nobody gitts outta here alive, earthling.

kold_kadavr_ flatliner said...

Dunno if you saw this before...
yet, here it is once moe, curly:

Greetings, earthling! Need summore new-fangled-thots N ideers? Look no firdr, brudda. Can't stay long. Done gotta git, Paw... yet, if Im a sower, we plant the Seed; if Im an artist, we RITE the Word:

Would U please help a plethora of King Size, wildchild, rawkuss poetry/wordz which are lookin 4 a home in thy novelty?? Thx. Whew. They're pretty insane. They're bereft of reason. Oi! Blimey! They're bloody PINK spiders!

Gotta gobba lotta shrewd, surreal, supersonic, sardonic satires, sassy N savvy elixers N electronic elegance (and palpable nuance) on our YOUTHwitheTRUTH blogs. Wannum? Have'm. N'joym. Gettm outta my hair!!!

How mucha wanna betcha our sugar-high-mojo, pleasure-beyond-measure, fuse-blowin-exploits R a copious madhouse of one lavish bookay D.O.A.? Our proFUSE NRGod who leads U.S. to explosive fairy-tales in the 'one-stop-shop' symphony Upstairs? God's the BigDude, the Owner of ElysianFields, the Grand Prize, the Austere Overdrive, NoPurchaseNecessary: our bombastic tenaCITY on a Hill which'll plant the Seeds 4u2 grow-up to new N greater heights!! Mama mia! Thatsa good pasta!!

CAUTION: our 22ish, avant-guard, accurately-atrocious, offa-the-reservation-like-Jimmy-Hoffa, metal breadcrumms R sooo out-of-order, toots, they're an intimate wealth of bottomless sophistication. And dats da lethal fak, Jak. Go ahead. Sue me. Yawn. But, yet, here's the perennial KOO D'TAH: who else has actually SEEN the Great Beyond in spirit & lived to tella youse bout the bionic, bloated, brevity-like-earth we're living on?? Yes, earthling, Im an NDE, almost salivating4salvation. So gain altitude, never attitude: death has no intrinsick favorites.

If Mr. abSUREditty's an ultra-great-reward, and not everyone enters, Q: why is it an excruciating deluge of epic-.357-caliber where the quality's a limitless bulldozer plowin, pushin-your-power-cord with eternal goodies? A: the Prize-A+-TheEnd just gives U.S. moe-curley-graphix 2 VitSee: an explosion-of-extravagance which few R asking 4 anymore! Grrr. They're too concerned withe grotesque sanity of ambivilant piss-ants which swiftly crawl like lemmings to their scorecard destruction. C'est la guerre.

THANK GAWWWD!!! the Don has the ebullient BAWLS!!! to do the Manifest Destiny!!! To lead U.S. forward to the White House Upstairs with his SQUARES!!!

So, break-free, earthling; be like a contraversial outgrowth of incredibly-intoxicating-effusiveness in your zeitgeist to give the ultimate, stunning, backknuckle potency: Wiseabove. Wanna join this useFULL idiot Upstairs 4 the most zany, kooky, X-acto-knife antidotes? Extremely exquisite, explicit endorphins in abundance? Puh-lenty of pulverizingly-tantalizing psychopathic psychosomatics with eXtras? i2i-kick-velocity's-ass-ultra-maximum-rocket-fuel-party-hardy at my pad ya ever encountered without d'New Joisey accent 4 an eternal slew of precarious, magnanimous & primeval absurdities indelibly etched in the granite corridors of eternity with a total-barrage-of-melt-in-thy-mouth 'depth-of-undenial'???

Make Your Choice  -SAW
...cuzz nobody gitts outta here alive, earthling.