The Remembrance Day Incident

I've been a bit slack on the blog front of late... am working extra hours to cover for my boss who is off on comp leave because she has RSI, because we are forced to work in sub-standard conditions. Not sweatshop sub-standard, but pretty bad.

Anyway. I'm working a ridiculous amount of hours. Thankfully the powers-that-be have caved to my demands and are paying me for the extra hours, instead of enforcing their stupid time-in-lieu policy*, which is how they normally get people to work overtime.

But that's not important.

Reading this blog just now, reminded me of an incident which occurred yesterday.

Remembrance Day.

I was working, but due to a lack of staff (don't get me started - I can get sidetracked very easily on the topic of injustice in my workplace), I was working on my own. I had the radio on in the background and just before 11am they started broadcasting a Remembrance Day tribute which would finish at 11am in time for the one minute's silence.

As the tribute was drawing to a close, a customer came up to the counter. She looked to be about my mum's age, which I won't disclose, but let's just say she looked old enough to remember our country at war.

I greeted this woman, but before she could launch into her request, I politely pointed out that it was just coming up to the 11th hour of the 11th month of the 11th day, and would she mind waiting while I observed the one minute's silence?

I was very polite about it. It was only going to be for a minute. 60 seconds.

And she looked like a reasonable person who would be happy to observe a minute's silence in memory of those who fought for our country.

I was wrong.

As they were playing The Last Post on the radio, I was being subjected to an angry lecture on how busy this person was and how she didn't have time to waste while I observed a tradition which she considered outdated and meaningless.

I calmly explained to her that my grandfather fought in France in WW1. He came home with a load of schrapnel in his spine as payment for his troubles, which contributed to the health problems that finally took him from this world and left my dad an orphan at the age of 14.

I told her that I felt it important to at least remember his sacrifice for one short minute of each year.

Her reply "He's dead so what does it matter" really got under my skin, but instead of reaching over the counter to smack her head (which is what I really wanted to do), I processed her ticket exchange and sent her on her way.

However I couldn't help thowing a bitchy sweet "I hope your grandchildren remember you fondly when you're gone" at her as she walked away.

I think she flinched.

I observed my one minute silence at 11.08am. I hope that's ok Grandpa Bob.






* The problem with this policy is that you end up clocking up 400 hours of TIL and then you're not allowed to take it.