I lasted about a month as manager of the record department of Kendal Milne and Co. on Deansgate in Manchester, a prestigious department store.
The department was responsible for all the piped music played throughout the store, but the continuous loop tape decks were knackered with worn out heads and slipping drive belts. I came in for merciless stick for the unreliability and quality of the system, despite me making it clear the machines were worn out. I spent more time fiddling and nursing the damn things than keeping the staff flogging vinyl.
On a particularly irksome day when the absolute darling on the Revlon counter blew me out for the catering manager, the machines were doing their damnedest to drive me mad, and the floor manager was being singularly obnoxious, I had a regrettable fit of pique.
I put Derek and Clive on the best machine, locked the door of the tape cupboard, pocketed the key and buggered off out of the store for my lunch. I admit I was a bit tempestuous in those days, maybe still am, ever so slightly...
Apparently the outrage from customers and senior management was unprecedented and I was summarily dismissed on my return. The cupboard doors lay shattered on the floor, opened by security with a full size steel fire extinguisher used as a makeshift sledge hammer.
I'd long thought retail wasn't for me, but my late father thought it would be a good grounding. I never did tell him the full story of my sudden "redundancy", although he was far from humourless
I later heard that the piped music source was moved under the control of the highest echelons of management.
A few months on I went into partnership with a school friend and ran a service and petrol station in Northenden, and started my career in the motor trade, and never looked back.
I still think of that Revlon girl, God she was a looker (and a goer...) a marvellous combination