He covets the precious things of the shop!

Yes, yes, what's all this shouting about? We'll have no trouble here!
This is a local shop, for local people!

It's been a while since last I wrote and between being forced out of my home by my flatmate and paying extreme amounts of money towards settling bills, there have been a few laughs - mostly supplied by my new employer.
I had a job as a waiter at a lame-o restaurant and was being ripped off at $13 an hour.
Now, thanks to a mate, I am working at a massive corporate op-shop.
Their induction training program was an amazing computer based voyage of discovery and vomit!
These American and Canadian managers detailed with glee how Savers disposes of their unwanted clothes that they get for peanuts from Non-Government Agencies:
They sell them to people in Africa and Asia.
That's right! Sell them. As with most other things here in the west, the shit we don't want we ship off to people not us in far-off lands!
Swell.
Also, there's a bizarre older person worship that goes on hereabouts too:
Cheap and nasty knick knack shit that generally gets thrown out for pretty good reasons is sold here at bargain basement prices(!) so that 'our older customers' can find those 'treasures' they so desire.
That's right, shit round here is referred to as 'treasure'.
Further, the workers who work the shitty low paid jobs here are referred to as 'Team Members' but management are not team members, oh no, they are management and they live upstairs and can look down on the sales floor at all times from their offices. It's a little like a panopticon - you never know when you are being observed.
It's such a great experience and long overdue for me. I'd forgotten what being a wage slave is like. I'm actually oddly grateful to Savers.
Talk about class war.
Capital sucks!