In the spring of 1959, "Alfie" Gower, The Maths Master at Cathays High School for Boys was acting as Careers Master. He looked at me rather ruefully, and sighed a despondent sigh. "What are we going to do with you Lewis?" There was an opening for a trainee buyer at David Morgan's, Cardiff's leading department store. Miss Barnfield, The Staff Manager, as the title was then for employing people, before it became, Personnel Manager, and before it became Director of Human Resources, later, and , just kidding, Payroll Obliterator today, had amongst her other duties, the responsibility for changing the potential employee's local surname, to something more likely to identify a culprit. I mean, there would have been many,many Lewis's, Jones's, and Morgan's, etc....so, cleverly, each new addition to the workforce was given a new name. I must have looked like a big drip, and was given the name "Lake". Another newcomer, Jones, was given the appellation, "Joint", though in those days it would not have had the same connotation which it has today.
"Aspel" was not a problem, so Michael did not have to adopt a new identity.
There were lots and lots of selling staff, and very few managers. Unlike today when the average department store selling staff has been the victim of a ruthless pogrom, to make way for legions of managers to find officious employment developing cause for their existence.
After a spell in the basement hardware department, I found myself behind the counter in the silverware dept, with a Mrs. Nina Tucker, wife of a butcher who had a shop in Rhiwbina. Nina Tucker had a very acute sense of humour. Which made it very difficult to retain the right kind of demeanour when dealing with some of the customers, such as the rather grand lady from Cyncoed who returned the set of Oneida "Hampton Court" soup spoons because her guests and family at dinner made - and she illustrated - long-drawn out slurping sounds unbefitting a family of her distinction. Or, the quiet little man from an overseas country who returned his alarm clock because it did not work. Unwrapping it, springs and bells leapt everywhere, and he explained that he had tried to fix it by opening the back with a tin-opener. In those days, the tin-opener ( can opener) left a jagged ridge just like Popeye's can of spinach when he opened it !
Mrs. Tucker made as if to dust the inside of the counters and got down on the floor, in convulsions, swallowing the laughter which threatened to engulf the entire department. I somewhat restrained myself until he had gone, and then I let go..........
Previously, in the hardware department, a woman had returned a polythene bowl, and when I took it out of the brown paper bag, the bottom of it had burnt through, and burnt plastic hung around the edges of the hole. The customer was extemely indignant. The bowl was inferior. She had boiled her husband's handkerchiefs in it on the range top, and now there was a hole in it.
Mr.Goddard, The Buyer, sniffed and with a glazed expression of devout adherence to policy, apologized to the customer, and suggested an enamel bowl might be better suited to the task at hand.
From time to time, masters from Cathays would pass through the store, and one of my most enduring memories is of Alfie Gower defining existencialism for me while I was assistant buyer of the china and glass department, and while Mr.Forrester, The Buyer, looked on impatiently, because there was work to be done.
I could tell you a whole lot of funny stories about working as a young man in David Morgan's, but that's a whole other blog.
A woman, a widow, old enough to be my mother, took a liking to me. I waited at her place of work to go to tea with her. The buyer there got angry one day and accused her of being a "cradle-snatcher". I had no idea then what all the fuss was about. Later, when she invited me to her house in Barry, and wound up her gramophone, and put a romantic record on the turntable, and gently lowered the head, and when the steel needle moved through the grooves, and she moved up the sofa and gently kissed me, I knew............ and I flew !
David Morgan's closed down this year, 2005, as did the store in which I was working until April 9th of this year. Two over a century old family owned-and managed department stores. The one in which I first commenced work in 1959, and the one in which my almost half-century career in retail ended. And, ironically and uncannily, both have closed in the same year.
"Aspel" was not a problem, so Michael did not have to adopt a new identity.
There were lots and lots of selling staff, and very few managers. Unlike today when the average department store selling staff has been the victim of a ruthless pogrom, to make way for legions of managers to find officious employment developing cause for their existence.
After a spell in the basement hardware department, I found myself behind the counter in the silverware dept, with a Mrs. Nina Tucker, wife of a butcher who had a shop in Rhiwbina. Nina Tucker had a very acute sense of humour. Which made it very difficult to retain the right kind of demeanour when dealing with some of the customers, such as the rather grand lady from Cyncoed who returned the set of Oneida "Hampton Court" soup spoons because her guests and family at dinner made - and she illustrated - long-drawn out slurping sounds unbefitting a family of her distinction. Or, the quiet little man from an overseas country who returned his alarm clock because it did not work. Unwrapping it, springs and bells leapt everywhere, and he explained that he had tried to fix it by opening the back with a tin-opener. In those days, the tin-opener ( can opener) left a jagged ridge just like Popeye's can of spinach when he opened it !
Mrs. Tucker made as if to dust the inside of the counters and got down on the floor, in convulsions, swallowing the laughter which threatened to engulf the entire department. I somewhat restrained myself until he had gone, and then I let go..........
Previously, in the hardware department, a woman had returned a polythene bowl, and when I took it out of the brown paper bag, the bottom of it had burnt through, and burnt plastic hung around the edges of the hole. The customer was extemely indignant. The bowl was inferior. She had boiled her husband's handkerchiefs in it on the range top, and now there was a hole in it.
Mr.Goddard, The Buyer, sniffed and with a glazed expression of devout adherence to policy, apologized to the customer, and suggested an enamel bowl might be better suited to the task at hand.
From time to time, masters from Cathays would pass through the store, and one of my most enduring memories is of Alfie Gower defining existencialism for me while I was assistant buyer of the china and glass department, and while Mr.Forrester, The Buyer, looked on impatiently, because there was work to be done.
I could tell you a whole lot of funny stories about working as a young man in David Morgan's, but that's a whole other blog.
A woman, a widow, old enough to be my mother, took a liking to me. I waited at her place of work to go to tea with her. The buyer there got angry one day and accused her of being a "cradle-snatcher". I had no idea then what all the fuss was about. Later, when she invited me to her house in Barry, and wound up her gramophone, and put a romantic record on the turntable, and gently lowered the head, and when the steel needle moved through the grooves, and she moved up the sofa and gently kissed me, I knew............ and I flew !
David Morgan's closed down this year, 2005, as did the store in which I was working until April 9th of this year. Two over a century old family owned-and managed department stores. The one in which I first commenced work in 1959, and the one in which my almost half-century career in retail ended. And, ironically and uncannily, both have closed in the same year.
posted by Louie at 12:36 PM
1 Comments:
Alfie Gower - a name from the past. An appalling teacher at Cathays, and a vile, unsympathetic person. Miss Barnfield - I worked at David Morgan's - in menswear, food hall, and electrics a great place to work.
Post a Comment
<< Home