The Horrors of Kwiksave: Tracy, The Wild One

The Horrors of Kwiksave’ is a candid recollection of my memories working at Kwiksave (the now-defunct discount supermarket chain) as a 'Stock Lad'.

I wasted over FOUR years of my life in this maggot-infested hellhole and still occasionally wake up drenched in sweat after enduring a nightmare in which I am working there still.

Some of the names have been slightly changed simply to save my arse in case anyone takes offence at some of the details regarding my facts or opinions.

Many of the people mentioned are now dead as this happened so long ago, but their siblings are not.

This is the 'HIVE Special Edition' of a multi-part autobiographical story (with a little over-embellishment on some of the details) I posted on STEEM over 3 years ago.

It contains a LOT more detail and content than the original and will fill in many gaps that were missed the first time around.

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Other Articles in this Series:
Chapter One: A Prelude to the Best Job in the Land
Chapter Two: The Job Centre
Chapter Three: The Interview
Chapter Four: Christmas is Coming
Chapter Five: The Changing of the Blades
Chapter Six: The Staff
Chapter Seven: The Auxiliary Staff and The Load
Chapter Eight: The Sugar Maniac
Chapter Nine: The Accusation and "Big Lad"
Chapter Ten: Naggy
Chapter Eleven: Shit & Noise
Chapter Twelve: The Death of Mort
Chapter Thirteen: The Time of Many Managers
Chapter Fourteen: The Calm before the Storm
Chapter Fifteen: David Dire
Chapter Sixteen: Bad Totty

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‘Some kids are best left to fend for themselves, and others were born to stack shelves’ – Steven Wilson


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Chapter Seventeen: Tracy, The Wild One

...'October 1982'...

'WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE BELOW'

"Who's that new fit girl.., is it Clare Grogan's sister?", I said to Martin. He was looking equally astounded at the sheer quality of this tasty new checkout girl.

You have to understand that up until now, besides Sharon and to a lesser extent 'Linda of Little Brain', they had all had been blessed with a hefty whack of the Biffa stick.

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...'in the early eighties, I seriously wanted to go to Skye for my holidayeeee..., but only if Clare was coming with me'...
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“I don’t know mate, but I want to know and will soon”, he replied, eyes sparkling and with a sliver of drool emanating from the corner of his mouth.

Welder was standing behind us in a similar state of shock and we both turned giving him whimsical grins.

“You’d be better off chatting up Girl mate, look she’s staring at you!”, said Martin not unkindly.

“Hmmph”, said Welder noting the blank gormless look from the empty-headed checkout girl. He stomped off into the back-shop in a huff sending us into chuckles.

It was quite true, this Tracy as we were about to discover reminded me of Clare Grogan from Altered Images, wild but very desirable.

The new ‘Till Totty’ that had suddenly appeared before our eyes, was arousing our masculine hormones, and making us dribble at the mouth in ways we had never known before.

Within days Martin, who had that distinct squinty-eyed look, similar to Morten Harket of soon to be pop band A-Ha was chatting avidly to Tracy who appeared to be lapping up the attention.

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...'If you had those eyes, you could shag a different girl every night. Unfortunately I lacked them'...
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While Tracy was desirable to yours truly, I was this shy, unassuming lad, and had a lack of confidence amongst the beauties of the world so knew that I was not going to end up in bed with this one.

Welder was moping around trying little smiles every now and again when Tracy was on checkout duty but it wasn’t working.

Unfortunately he was far too pungent, never washed his circa 1972 well-used overall and was reminiscent of a homeless vagabond which left dopey Mike, the Carpetsave bloke as the only other valid contender.

Mike had a real crush on Tracy, had woken from his semi-permanent comatose state, and had been seen trying to chat to her every time she walked past the upper Carpetsave shop which he was supposed to be managing.

Within days, Martin managed to ‘score’, had taken her out, and repeated this feat on concurrent days, much to the disgruntlement of Mike.

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The next thing we were hearing is that Tracy was wild in bed, highly adventurous and Martin had shagged her repeatedly. If it was an empty boast, then it was convincing and we believed him. He also revealed that she had a rose tattoo on her left tit.

We were all a little gobsmacked at this news. The fact that he had got his end away was expected but… girls simply didn’t have tattoos in 1982, never mind ones in such places.

We had the information from the horses' mouth and it wasn't long before the news went store-wide. The mutterings could be heard in all places, amongst the other checkout operators, and even those stuck-up Liquersave women.

...and then it happened, wild Tracy was gone as quickly as she arrived and the reason was shrouded in mystery. Was it that tattoo, jealousy amongst the other checkouts, had she opened her legs too quickly, or spurned Dire's podgy advances and refused him fellatio?

Martin and Dire had some kind of connection that appeared to still be fine, so I guess the fat twat had felt this one was out of his league like most of the rest of us.

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For a while, Martin became subdued, sulky, and refused to discuss the leaving reasons, while Mike had seemingly wakened properly from his eternal slumber was now constantly scowling at Martin. I don’t think they ever spoke to one another again.

Normality had returned to the workplace and the eternal tedium of Kwiksave life was about to continue.


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To be continued...


Cover Picture is a combination of free sources from here and here, combined and edited with Luminar 4. Any unsourced images are my own.

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