Friday, February 28, 2014
Cookie didn't want to have to do it.
Because I have been forced by the economy into the wild world of being a sole proprietor (writer and genealogy), my income varies from next to nothing to nothing.
But I have had to take a part-time position in retail. Ugh.
If it were an Adult Cabaret, at least the stories would be good. But it isn't. And because it's a national chain, and I had to sign a piece of paper that says I can be discharged for blogging about said Employer.
And because Employer is one of the top 100 retail companies to work for, and they have been exceptionally nice and happy to have me on board, and I get benefits, I have to abide by that.
So for the sake of all things considered, I will refer to said chain either as "Employer" or as the "Adult Cabaret", even though I thankfully keep my clothes on and do not need to pole dance.
I can tell you that I did this exact same thing in this type of environment that I worked in almost 30 years ago for six of the most depressing years of my work life time, and despite the lapse, the people are exactly the same.
No, I take that back, they are worse.
They are still making requests for things - we'll call the "drinks" though they are not - but don't know what they are requesting. So there are a lot of conversations that go like this:
Customer: "Yeah, I want a drink that I saw on Steve Harvey and it was pink. I don't know what was in it. And I can't remember when I saw it on his show. But it was pink."
Me: "Was it rum based, vodka based or gin based."
Customer: "I don't know! You're the expert!"
And the conversations also go like this:
Customer: "When you go home what do you snack on?"
Me: "I'm not a good snacker. But lets take a look at the staff picks for snacks."
Customer: "I don't care what they snack on, I want to know what you snack on."
What the fuck.
Seriously. What the fuck, indeed.
And don't get me started on the children.
Evidently, parents today think that if the weather outside is bad, then its OK to bring their offspring into retail stores and let them scream at the top of their lungs and run around.
And Evidently yesterday I shot a look at a parent a look because they were standing next to my position at the Cabaret Customer Service Station and they were doing nothing to stop their children from screaming, shrieking and crying.
"I'm sorry," says the mother in a thick Russian accent. "Is this bothering you?"
I smiled and said, it is making it hard for me to listen to this customer. In my mind I was blowing an air horn in her face and asking "does this bother you when I blow this air horn in your face?"
But instead of getting her kids under control, she simply had them stand three feet further away while they screamed at the top of their lungs.
Thanks for being clueless, I thought.
Yesterday was simply hellacious because I spent the day dealing with a lot of African American Church ladies - and while I love me my church ladies - they came in asking about all sorts of off the wall drinks.
Do you have the menu from the last supper? Do you have recipe cards for what they served. And "What would Oprah have served if she were choosing the wine?"
All fucking day. All day. Unending. All. Fucking. Day.
The cherry on the top was the man who came in and asked where our Unicorn Section was.
"For your daughter?"
"No," said the mouth breather. "My girlfriend loves Unicorns."
They simply aren't paying me enough for this job.
And when things calmed down a bit, a coworker who has been somewhat brusque came up to me and said thanked me for being a big help. Me?
Evidently, customers like me because I am nice. And in Baltimore, that is a rare thing.
The good thing is, I am able to leave work and not bring it home with me. And when I do get home, I have the husband and the dogs waiting on me.
Still, I need to find a steady job suited for an introvert. Because what I am doing now could lead me to actually seek an adult cabaret, wave a $20 bill and demand that the dancer dance like she dances when she dances at home.