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Writer's pictureMartin Pickard

Cards only in aisle 3

I used to run courses on customer service and talk about the importance of eye contact. It makes me wonder what’s going on in the mind of the person with their eyes on the floor refusing connection.


Dear checkout-girl in aisle three

Look up; Look up; See me; See me!

Your mind elsewhere, your life a mess,

you labour there in your distress

just scanning automatically

while staring enigmatically

I register your misery

Look up; Look up; See me; See me!


Poor check-out girl I feel your pain

the bills are going up again

the rent, the rates, the heat, the light,

till every day becomes a fight

the world spins on dramatically

you carry on mechanically

survival theoretically

Look up; Look up; See me; See me!


Dear checkout-girl I’m hurting too

my life is screwed, I’m just like you

my brain, my pain, my broken mind,

it’s all beginning to unwind

I came in search of company

a word, a smile from somebody

and here I stand in aisle three

Look up; Look up; See me; See me!

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