Ocado

Most of the people that worked on my shift at one of Ocados ‘Customer Fulfilment Centres’, (I know, sounds like somewhere a Scientologist goes for a thrice yearly mental emetic!), including myself were agency as opposed to actually being employed by Ocado themselves. The people that were ‘employed’ by the agency were people that had previously spent years working in factories and warehouses, being put out of work through the recession/​credit crunch due to redundancy and having to take what they could get. Suddenly going from a factory environment that you’ve worked at for ten years plus, into a hygienic, (hmm!), militaristic, ‘ministry of love’ style building takes a major attitude adjustment.
After a 4 shift induction where you’ll be treated to the ‘employee video’, the obviously mocked up video with muzac accompaniment, that you are supposed to believe reflects actual employment at the company. You will be regularly tested on the dystopian sounding values of Ocado which are, ‘We’re in it together’, ‘We value each person’, ‘war is peace’, ‘We love what we do’, and the rousing ‘We can be even better’… one of the above isn’t true! I’m not saying it isn’t actually a value of Ocado’s, its just that if it is, then we wasn’t told to quote it paraphrase at least three times a shift! You will also be hand-​scanned… I shit you not, this was the method of ‘clocking on’. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m fully aware its a sci-​fi way of saying if you nick anything we’ve got your prints, but considering they have a room of monitors being watched 24/​7, every Joey… erm, team leader has a walkie-​talkie… that makes them look a total cock when using it! I have to use a key card in order to actually start work, go for a piss/​skive off that also has to be scanned. Taking my prints at this point is bi-​sexuality, its just fuckin’ greed man!
To be employed at Ocado means at some point you are going to hear the ‘mission statement’ and ‘vision’. The mission statement contains the wonderfully starry eyed slogan, «Teamwork brings us together like nothing else» and their Vision begins with, «We love it here»… (now repeat after me my children, weloveithereweloveithere!). For that and a bunch of other stuff that sounds as though it was dictated by L. Ron Hubbard and typed by a distant looking, semi literate, Jesus camp 12 year old that feasts on his/​her own bullshit, go to their website and look for the heading, ‘Working for us’. Note the word ‘for’ rather than ‘with’, kind of takes away the whole, «We’re in it together» and «Teamwork brings us together» messages doesn’t it?
Never in my life have I met a larger bunch of people that actually thought the title of ‘team leader’ carried any actual weight. I will speak out in Ocados favour at this point and say, Ocado is indeed an equal opportunities employer. In my time there one of the team leaders was an obviously disabled fella with partial downs syndrome. He used to carry a pouch with a first aid kit and walkie batteries, some people used to say he also carried his action figures and stickers in it as well, I never saw them personally! Shop floor gossip suggested that he used to stalk the female employees on facebook. I once over heard a conversation between two women in the fag shelter that went, «go see the limpy gimp and give him a flash for an easier job», to which the reply was, «FUCK OFF! I’d rather cut my clit off with a butter knife». just thought I’d share that!
Clitoral circumcision aside. The shop floor, where you as the customer will have your shopping packed is generally clean. I mean I’m not really counting food spillages that are left there for days or the fact that some male employees purposely refused to wash their hands after going to the toilet. Try to think of it as, all the best kitchens in the world have some dirt! I can assure you that your shopping was packed to the standard that the packer felt reflected his/​her personal feelings on the social position of your groceries. For example Mrs. Two up two down, who has a kilo of sugary chocolate cereal, fish fingers and a multi pack of Fruit Shoot is obviously a busy working mom, who hasn’t got enough time on her hands, so its right that her shopping should be packed like it was the packers own. Whereas Mr. Dunroamin in suburbia with smoked salmon, caviar and Champagne is obviously a ponce that won’t get off his arse to go to the shops, so his shopping will be tossed, squeezed and crammed into the bags. When Mrs. Coco pops has ordered steaks, she naturally deserves the best cuts for the Friday night teatime. Mr. Dom Perignon on the other hand would receive something you’d dope a greyhound with. Seeing this for yourself would dispel any mythical notion you may be harboring about Britain NOT being a class based society. Along with bursting that bubble, I should also point out that the evidence for this doesn’t always come from the ‘higher echelons’ oppression of the ‘normal folk’. I think it just triggers it!