Chapter Two. #3
If I got one more hostile look, I’d make sure I earned it, I decided as I walked around the local supermarket.
Surprisingly, Penhaven had somehow kept commercial and chain stores out of the town.
Locals from the area ran most shops and businesses, which was actually nice.
But boy, were they cliquey! As proved right now.
The dirty looks I was getting were completely unwarranted.
I ignored them and carried on pushing the cart within the fairly decent-sized supermarket.
The trolley was full, and I was inwardly smirking.
Leafpoint Lighthouse wouldn’t know what hit it when I arrived later.
I’d picked up several mops, buckets, brooms, and tons of cleaning supplies and sponges.
The rubber gloves and bleach were almost gone because of me.
I went to one of the four tills and winced.
This would cost a few hundred pounds, but I’d triple-checked my bank before coming and twice while being here.
The money remained so that I could splurge on the top-label household items. As I queued behind someone, I could hear the whispers and see the finger-pointing.
All because I’d moved to Penhaven so I could live in the lighthouse.
Well, tough luck.
While not usually confrontational—Serena and Cale were proof of that—I wouldn’t back down. Plus, the will stated we had to stay for a year. So, they were fresh out of luck. I wasn’t going to return to Dagenham with Cale and his friends there.
The woman in front of me paid and sneered.
“Have a nice day,” I said warmly, and she blinked in shock and looked momentarily ashamed. She stormed off, and I smiled. Before I could ask for shopping bags, the cashier began slamming items through the till.
“Can I have some bags?” I inquired. The cashier huffed and flung several across the checkout. That did it. Annoyed, I took my time as she kept scanning things through and ran out of room. She stared at me in annoyance.
“Problem?” I questioned, finally opening a bag.
“There are other customers,” she snapped.
“Yes, there is, and none of them are having their goods thrown at them down the belt. I’d like these replaced as you’ve ruined them,” I said, returning five bottles.
She gaped, and I held her gaze, crossing my arms. “I won’t pay for damaged items. Replace them or put the whole lot back.”
“Is there a problem?” a cold voice asked from behind.
“My products have been dented because your cashier threw them down the belt. I want those replaced, please,” I explained.
The guy stood there and stared. “How do I know you didn’t do it?”
“Really, would you like to inspect the conveyor belt? Oh, look, that can is shoved into that bottle of bleach, another ruined item.”
Everyone around me stopped and watched. I folded my arms and cocked an eyebrow. While deep down I was shaking, I wouldn’t let these bullies witness it.
“Ma’am…”
“It is Miss, as you know,” I interrupted.
He paused, unsure what to reply.
“Look, this is no skin off my nose. If you want to give me poor service and be insulting, please tell me. In this day and age, if you can afford to throw away—” I looked at the till, “…three-hundred-pounds, and I am only halfway through—say so. I mean this has to be a five-hundred-pound shop, but if I’m not welcome, state it now.
After all, everyone’s struggling for money; I shall take mine elsewhere.
Then my family and I are going to avoid this store. I won’t bow to bullies.”
The manager looked shocked. “Bullies?”
“Yes, what else would you call this?”
He struggled between kicking me out, proving he was a bully, and appeasing me. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll get those replaced.”
“I want someone to help pack. Considering how your cashier threw everything down, I’d rather not be accused of damaging your stock. Plus, she’s rude and ignorant; I don’t want to be served by her. I feel threatened,” I stated.
The manager ground his teeth as the cashier glared.
“Get off the till and go find someone else,” he ordered.
The cashier gaped and opened her mouth. “No, Miss Jasper is correct. This is a private business, and her purchases alone today would pay your wage for the week. Whether or not you like Miss Jasper, you haven’t acted professionally, and by causing damage to stock, you’ve cost the owners’ money. ”
The cashier stormed away, and the manager moved to gather the damaged items.
“Hey, I’ll take them. But I believe my point was made.”
He held my eyes and nodded, then opened the bags and began to pack. Once everything had been scanned, he gave me a twenty-pound voucher. Considering I had spent six hundred pounds, it made little difference.
“My cousin will be in soon enough. Best hope your cashier has learnt some manners,” I warned.
With that shot, I wheeled out the trolley, followed by an assistant with a second.
I would give them one more chance because I really believed in shopping locally, but I wasn’t a pushover.
With my car loaded, I headed back to Leafpoint Lighthouse.