Badges, for Convenience

supermarketBack when I was a lad, our brains were like super-computers. And we didn’t even HAVE super-computers! Maybe, just maybe, it’s because we were encouraged to use our brains a bit. That’s right: none of this business of phones and computers doing everything for us. If the pretty girl down the lane wanted to give your her home telephone number and you didn’t have a piece of paper handy, you just memorised it and later plugged it into your rotary telephone. Oh, and people in the supermarket didn’t wear fancy corporate name badges. But that’s mostly because we didn’t have supermarkets…we had regular markets, and quaint shops where you could go to buy sliced meats and flour. And we were happy!

In today’s world, you don’t have to remember a thing. Even calculators have destroyed the maths skills of the young people. Though I will admit, a few things might not be so bad. Those name tags, for example. I might not LIKE going to the supermarket, but there’s something to be said for knowing the name of the person serving you. That’s either because you can report them to the management if they give you cheek, or you can write a nice letter commending their professionalism and friendliness. Not that they give you much cheek nowadays…maybe that’s down to the name badges.

It used to be harder, and the employees knew it. In the early days, when supermarkets were a new commodity, there weren’t so many rules. The workers wore matching shirts but that was about it- no corporate name tags in sight- so if someone gave you lip, it made things difficult. Mostly we just shrugged it off, because it was a different time. But one fellow…he just riled me up big time. I tried to report him so the manager could box his ears, but all i could give him was ‘brown hair, mean look’. If only he’d had some kind of company name badge. Could’ve taught that scoundrel a lesson. So no…not everything about failing memories is bad, I suppose.