Tales from the Re(tail).

Hello, dear reader.

I don't know if you've ever worked in retail, but let me tell you, it is a surreal world, one where customers can sexually harrass you with no recourse, and where your management really wants to make sure you're properly trained, but there's just so much to do. At my particular store, the interactions are often bizzare, I usually start looking for hidden cameras. Examples, you say? You must have examples now? Ok.

-Every morning the inflatable Santa looks like he took a bender and passed out in the Christmas trees. He has to be propped up for the air to inflate all the way. It makes me laugh every day, and my new buddy in that department shares in my amusement, asking that I not fix it until after he comes in to work. No problem.

-Someone asked me where some piece of inventory went, and I didn't know. 15 minutes later, they walk by and tell me where it went. I say, "Oh good, thanks for telling me, now I know." You may think the response is, "surely," or "you betcha" or something equally serene. No. The retort is a snappy, "well, I'm just TELLING you, I thought you'd want to know! Geesh!" There have been times where I am caught by a customer or coworker with a bewildered look on my face, trying to fathom what just happened. Honestly.


-99% of the customers who ask me for help end up standing there while I read the label in front of them and tell them what they want to know. They just need me to stand there and read the back of the bottle. What?

-85% of the customers who come in looking for window and door treatments think I can solve all their problems, even though they don't bring me any information about anything. Then they get angry because they don't want to cut their own plastic. They use words like "asshole" and "Greedy stupid bitches," which I know aren't aimed at me, but c'mon! Is it really such a hard thing to believe that doors and windows are different sizes and so hard to cut your own measurements? Why are you yelling at me? That guy you called an asshole for ignoring you? He was on break, and you walked in to the breakroom to ask him a question. He didn't hear you because the of the iPod. True story.

-I have received more sexist comments and gross pick up lines than anyone ever thought possible. Really terrible ones too. I actually thought I was going to get my butt grabbed today, and turned my body. How wrong is that? Can I sue a customer for sexual harrassment? Someone get me a law student, get me Elle Woods! Am I supposed to take some kind of pleasure in the fact that some gross old guy thinks I'm cute enough to offend so entirely? ick.

There are a lot of rules, that you learn as you go. Here is a small list of some of the first rules I've discovered.

Rules of Retail (so far):
-The customer may always be right, but the team members get the last word....after they leave.
-Just because your coworker is a nice-looking lady in her mid forties, doesn''t mean she's nice. She will flat out ignore you, and sigh and throw stuff around when irritated (not even Team Member Valkyrie!), making you feel very pariah-like.
-You will get injured. Pretty much every day.
-Don't extend your knife all the way.
-Politics exist, on a scale yet to be invented.


The Song of the Day today is:
Angry People, by the Barenaked Ladies
http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Angry_People/7476882

Classic. I win, they don't drag me down. They make me laugh :)

Just Can't Seem to Get it Right Today

Hello, dear reader. I apologize for my absence. I have been picking up more hours at work (to quote my coworker, "I have a pile of bills 1/16th of an inch thick!"), and this last weekend I was dog sitting a dog I've known since puppy-hood. He's not one for sharing attention, especially with computers or other living things, and he definitely doesn't understand that sleeping people don't give attention to dogs unless they howl and flop around like an attention-starved starlet with the back of her hand on her forehead.

So today I was going to stay and work longer, make some money. I had the best intentions, and I seem to have a TON of energy on Tuesdays (a phenomenon which I am willing to investigate and extort) when, 15 minutes into my shift I had a comical but devastating incident. Thinking about it now, it is funny, and I hope you find it funny too. In my head it reads like that insurance claim about the guy with the bricks. I've told my manager that I will set up the paint machines every morning (I may as well tell you I work in a home-improvement store; the secret is out. Everyone from my old work knows, and seem to be coming in to check on me. Fabulous), so that she doesn't have to come in a half hour early just to set it all up. It's fairly simple. Purge the machines, check the color levels, etc. Today I was filling the white colorant when I decided it would go faster if I punched a hole in the bottom. Before the can was empty I could see that the color was getting full, so I moved the can to the next machine to fill up that white container. Clearly I had forgotten that I had punched a hole in the bottom, and a trail of white paint was following me to the next machine. In my haste, I dumped the remainder in the next container, only to see that it was the wrong color. My manager hath oft told me this would be grounds for a royal hissy fit. I caught it after only a couple of drops, so no harm was done. I bent down to clean up the paint I had trailed on the floor, and hit my forehead on the counter, getting white paint on my face. I quickly cleaned up the floor and disposed of the offending canister, spraying all the surfaces with a powerful degreaser. I got the paint cleared up and decided to clean the counter. I safely sprayed a paper towel with this wonder-solvent, but it was on stream, rather than spray, and it sprayed back into my eye. I cannot tell you the amount of burning that is involved in this venture. I do not recommend it to anyone. I went to the drinking fountain and rinsed my eye, then, wet, bangs dripping, with white paint on my face, went to ask where the eyewash station was. What was that? Was that embarrassing, you ask? Ohhhh, not compared to what came next. I went to the eyewash station and bent over the fountain of saline solution, when the dock worker told me I had to stay there 15 minutes. 15 minutes, in a busy receiving area, bent over a fountain with my butt hanging out in the world. Everyone walking by wanted to know what happened, and I couldn't tell them, because of the odd sensation I was drowning. It was a high tech Neti Pot, I tell you. So there I am, snot pouring out, eye still burning, hanging my backside out to the world, trying to breathe, alienating those around me who want to know what happened (Minnesota Nice: Asking for the details while one is still in the process of dealing with it...Minnesota Nosy, more like) because I can't speak. Good times. I did NOT go home, however. But I did leave when my shift was over, rather than staying for more hours. I just want to shut my eye!

The good news is I can see. I have a minimal amount of blurriness, which is slowly subsiding, and all I can feel is a bit of a burn. Could have been worse. The ironic thing is that when they showed me that degreaser in the first place, they said, "this right here is your best friend." Ummmmm, no. Not so much.

The morning did not improve. My mineral water and juice concoction exploded on me, going all the way down my shirt and into my pants, my shirt buttons kept coming undone, making me the Mae West of the general area. I dropped a 6 pack of Catfood on my foot. If it could go wrong today, it did. I thought it would be best to just get home, close my eye and hide from the world. The only thing that went well was that I didn't cut myself with the box cutter, as per usual. What am I doing here? The HR guys keep asking me that too, but that's more because I seem so smart and overqualified. Maybe if I do well enough soon enough I will not have to be a grunt for long, but on the upside, I'm a size smaller and I'm getting some upper body strength. Ha!

This job cracks me up. I can't help but find things funny about it all the time. For the first 2 weeks I thought I was socially awkward, having been out of the world for the better part of a year, then I realized a lot of my coworkers are a bit on the awkward side, leaving odd pauses or rambling about seriously trivial things, like their granola bar preferences. The small talk gets really funny. I was thrilled to find out that one of my coworkers watched Family Guy last week, so when I asked him about it this week he had not seen it. He watches SpongeBob Squarepants. What? What is the best response to that?

There are a million more stories like this, and just as many that come from the customers. I will share them with you as I can remember and see. I better hide from the world, before I ruin another remote or laptop keyboard with spilled something or other. Oh yeah, it's all happened.

Today's song of the Day is

Joe Purdy, Just Can't Seem to Get it Right Today

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Can_t_Get_It_Right_Today/8231261

It's snowing again, for the third day in a row. Here are a few implications of the snow:

America: Land of the Panic Attack

I present to you reasons why I don’t watch the news anymore; it feels like America has become one big dysfunctional family, and the news is the doomsday, overprotective mother. I will watch the news, if I want to see what it is I’m supposed to panic about. Or if there is a story about a waterskiing squirrel. No wonder why so many people are suffering from panic attacks and disability.

Here’s a small list, from the last few years:
-War in Iraq
-War in General
-Obama and his healthcare plan
-Swine Flu (why are you still calling it that, news?) – Minnesota Hospitals and doctors offices took a new take this year, asking all Minnesotans to stay home if they think they have the flu, and don’t come in for help. Same with schools and daycares, and guess what’s happening? Schools are down 50% in attendance because a kid has the sniffles, and the subsequent absenteeism in workplaces makes the parents panic about working in this economy. Which leads us to:
-The Economy
-Unemployment Rates
-Terrorists
-Nuclear Bombs
-Natural Disasters, such as flooding, quakes, fire, storms….basically everything they used to call “Acts of God.” It’s probably better if they don’t call it that.
-Random violence among the youth and in the schools
-Gangs
-Workplace violence

I feel like the news is that daily call from an overprotective, horror-story-for-everything mother; “Did you hear that some woman just murdered a pregnant woman and took her baby!?!?” Add that one to the list. Fear and panic gets ratings, I know. Maybe I should go into business writing about happy fun stuff…like Chicken Soup for the Soul or the light side of news….oh wait, that’s already being done.

I think about panic and how it is not just an American Institution. Religion, National Leaders from all countries, the medical community, they all thrive on panic, because it keeps things rolling. It’s a great motivator. How unfortunate. I am much more motivated by goals and encouragement, but I never see that on a public scale. I’d work for those people. :D

There was a woman in the news (ha! Here we go) from Minnesota, who ran away with her 13 year old son after he told her he didn’t want to go through chemo again. They hunted the two down, vilified her in the news, and a judge forced them to go to chemo. So many people called her neglectful, tore her apart, but I knew what she was feeling. To see someone go through chemo once is hard enough. You inject your body with poison, hoping to kill another poison. The added sickness and weakness that comes with chemo is terrifying to watch, and I have no idea what it would be like to go through, I just pray I don’t ever know. This child (no one seems to remember he’s a child) wanted to live out the rest of his life happily, with good quality, not spending his last year on earth stuck in bed and throwing up all the time. She loved him enough to try and do that. So she ran away with him to hide him. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that, but when a pompous doctor, who, let’s face it, DOES NOT HAVE A CURE, but tells you to subject your body to this horrifying poison a second time or he will take you away from your family, put you in a foster home and still poison you, what is the best response to that? Doctors don’t have a clue when it comes to many diseases, and their response to illness is generally, “let’s try this. Let’s try this. Let’s try this.” I went to the CNN website to read people’s comments on this story, and I was heartbroken, the way people were throwing stones at this woman. Then, they interview a doctor, and he flat out says that this woman ran took her son away from a cure, that he is saddened because he’s holding all the answers in his hand and she has refused them. A CURE. Apparently this guy has cured cancer and failed to tell anyone about it. He’s the savior of this kid and she’s the devil for trying to let him live his life, however long it may be, as he wants, with happiness and some semblance of normality. Since he was 13, he was a minor, and the guardians were not allowed to refuse treatment on his behalf, nor was he allowed to refuse treatment for himself. Doctor (24 year old kid who has swallowed whatever he’s told) knows best. So this kid gets forced into chemo a second time in 3 months, with no hope, no feeling that it will help, totally depressed and with no faith of healing. Yeah, that will get the job done. Good on ya, doctor.

I didn’t mean to digress on this. This situation made me so furious, obviously. I just have issues with the panic and judgment of this country. Not that it is better anywhere else, but America seems to revolve around public gossip and humiliation and judgment, and it’s a little distasteful for my pallet. How many times have you seen the news, where there is a 30 second blurb about, say, a mosque full of men using their wives outside as a human shield (or sacrifice), only to spend the next 4 minutes on Tom Cruise or Brittany Spears? I tell you, it makes me sick. So if I seem like I don’t know what’s happening in the news, I likely do, but I won’t get my news from TV. News, like healthcare, is a BUSINESS. It’s about the money and the attention.

This all came about because of course, someone I know has the sniffles, and immediately everyone is freaking out. Yes, panic and lock yourself in your house with Airborne and Emergen-C, that will protect you. It makes me think of the plague, but we’re not witty enough to make a nice little nursery rhyme out of H1N1. But, we’re not quarantining the sick and the well together, so we got that going for us.

This reminds me of the song by Panic at the Disco: The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage. But that’s not the song of the day. Don’t worry. It also reminds me of the Weepies: This is Not Your Year. But that’s not the song of the day either.

For my money, I will take my chances. I have never taken a flu shot and I never will. That too is a business, and business from panic is good. I will trust in God and Fate and let science continue to think they’re both. Wow, I am cynical today! I apologize. I don’t know why that happened today, but I feel better, having written it. :P

I didn’t start off cynical today. Hmmmm.

Today’s Song of the Day is
The Weepies, The World Spins Madly On
http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/World_Spins_Madly_On/185470

I Find Things That Irritate Me: I Laugh at Them

So I haven't written in a few days. Thank you to those who send me emails and Instant Messages, prodding me to write. There doesn't feel like there is a lot to say. I still feel like I'm in a holding pattern, waiting for something. I got an email from one of the real estate offices to which I applied on August 20th. I emailed him back. We'll see.

Here's the travesty (photo) of the day: I went into a store last week, on September 24th, and this picture is what I saw. I then found out they've been there for more than a week! That's just sad. No Halloween, no Thanksgiving. Christmas in a recession, starts at Labor Day. Smart.

I feel more and more like we need to get out of this place. My boyfriend's job is getting more and more frustrating. He has an injury that he got on the job, but is still working everyday and overtime. And all his coworkers and bosses do is complain and demand more than they did before the injury. No clue how much money he is saving them, no idea how hard he's trying to keep things "normal" for them, while he is in so much pain. It's like they went on a mission to try and make him quit, because they know he has to be fired over his injury in order to get Comp benefits. The man is in so much pain, and all he gets is complaints and demands. And now he gets disciplined for every little thing also. You can see the company building a case against him. Nice. Good work environment. It's so hard to watch him go through this every day. I just pray for a new situation in life, a chance to leave this one and go somewhere else. And healing, and wisdom, and peace. Life is just hard right now. I look forward to the day when the people complaining actually have to get off their butt, put down their joints and do something, because he does it all, and he pretty much does it for me, for which I am trying to not feel guilty. It adds to the worry that I've been feeling. He's amazing.

Having said that, in many ways life is good. I've gone from helplessly looking for work to helplessly watching him get trampled and abused. I'm a helpless creature, and it's probably better if I know that. I went to Grace Church last week (if you get irritated by peoples' faith, look away now), and the message was all in Colossians 1, where it talks about identity. How people go to church and are nice to other people because they think it will win them brownie points when they die, and how many of the religions of the world are based on human teachers who teach this. I agree, loving your fellow man and living a nice life are important, but at the end of the day, it doesn't earn you anything. All it does is give you, as the tryer, peace of mind, which seems selfish and not self denying at all. Religion is all about advice. Do this, don't do that. I've learned I cannot give advice and change someone; I can't even change myself. This leads to toleration of others' faults. The professor teaching made an interesting comment. He said advice doesn't help, even if it's nice. If you're drowning in credit card debt, and your friends say, "just get a job that pays a million dollars a year," that is not very helpful. I think toleration is good, but I wonder if I love them.

I don't love my neighbors. My actual physical neighbors. Even now, my couch is shaking with their children running through the house on these crappy support beams that resonate on either side. The screamer is at it again, because it is almost dinner time, and the children are impatient. I have been thinking about the idea of loving your neighbor this week. This is the sick sense of humor that God has; love your neighbor, but you can't pick them. Love whoever I put next to you, whether they love and respect you or not. Crap. Crap crap crap. Why? Why can't I say, "I love you" to whomever is there (someone check my grammar there)? Why does it have to be the next person, who is so seemingly horrid to humanity? I heard that love is wanting the absolute best for someone else. No, I don't do this. I wait for the day where they will have to face the way they live, all the while ignoring my own faults. Same thing on the road, I want to see the jerks who cut me off crash, and that's not wanting the best for them. There has to be a middle of the road, where I don't make excuses for their bad behavior, I don't wish them ill, and it doesn't feel like a free pass for someone to walk all over me. I have this saying, when people are jerks in stores or on the road. I look at my cohort and say, "they are more important than we." It seems to be the obvious statement they want to make.

I am glad to be working with my hands, even if it is an easy job and it's not quite making the bills. It's close. I enjoy the customers, I joke around with them, and my coworkers are wonderful. Today I was told that I should leave all 5 gallon drums, and let the guys do it. What gentlemen. Works out for me. I have earned the nickname "Crash," after my run-in with my cohort in a previous post. I wish I could say things are getting less embarrassing, but being a klutz and carrying a box cutter is just an invitation to hilarity. Luckily, I've only cut myself and only once. Today I had to unload a dog house for a large dog. As anyone else would do, I tried to put it on my head and carry it over that way, like those women in Africa. It fell and messed up my hair, but luckily no one was hurt and it didn't break. Also, I made my first disaster today, moving the wrong boxes, and causing an avalanche. Good times. Good times. If you're good at Jenga, send some pointers my way. :) Letting the customers in at 6:30 is a bit unfair, though, when I have Irish pub songs in my head and don't know where everything is. My manager is nice, and also newer to the department. She brings in donuts and runs to McDonald's. Soon I will stop accepting her generous offers in the name of weight loss, but she's nice and helpful. She clearly doesn't understand what I'm doing there; not that I do either.

I am on this journey whether I like it or not, and I simply can't afford to be "destination" oriented, when my journey could mean so much. I am happy to work, I wait for something beautiful, and I need to start paying attention to my travel. I get so frustrated with others, who complain about their jobs, and they HAVE a job. I get frustrated with people turning down good work because it is beneath them or they don't want to negotiate a schedule, so they let it go. I get frustrated with people who owe me money and have a nice job, but spend all their money on some weekend trip or coffee and meals, because they don't want to cook for themselves or plan, or pay back what they owe. These things irritate me (as do Rooster decorations, Red pickups and Audi drivers). But my life is good. I have a home, I am fed, I have a really nice boyfriend (case in point: I wanted to try this new orange toothpaste, so he bought it. And I hated it. And he never said a word, but has been using that nasty toothpaste, even though he bought a new tube for me. That's a nice guy.) I'm 30, I view work as a means to live my life, and I want out of debt. I think that's healthy. It's time to make my "To do by 31" list. I think for my next birthday, I'm going to hire a Jack Sparrow impersonator, I'm going to either pull this tooth or fix it, and I really want my SCUBA certification. Now I just need to find 1500 bucks for all that. 500 if I just pull the tooth. :) Hmmm, and I need $2000 to finish my associates degree. I'm trying not to be greedy, but I want my bachelors. But that is only to make me feel good about myself, and that makes school my religion, and I don't want that. :)

I want another perspective, you know? One that seems so impossible, but isn't. Like in Colossians, when Paul tells the Greeks how Christ is different from the Greek gods. These people were terrified of their gods, their gods broke their own rules, came down to earth whenever they wanted on benders. Paul comes swooping in and says, "this guy isn't like that. He's the lifeguard, and he holds on to you." It's like me telling you that New Yorkers are laid back people who just like to sit at the beach and hang 10; it goes against everything you know about them, and it takes a lot to accept. Perspective is funny. I could be mad right now, but you wouldn't know because I'm typing and you can't hear me or see my handwriting get sloppier. I could walk in as someone walks out, and they might not even see me, but I could spend the day worrying about whether I did something wrong to them (annoying side note, I also dislike when people don't use the "g" on words, like "somethine"...that drives me CRAZY, but I also don't like to hear the "g" at the end of the word, like "songch." And there is an insight into my crazy...have fun with that).

Anyway, I am sure there is more to come, and I am sure you've enjoyed reading about all the things that irritate me, but my life is good, there is a hope to it that many don't have. I don't feel empty, as is easy to do when freaking out. I have authentic friends and loving family. I sit in this storm with all sorts of uncertainty, and I feel fine. No worries. I LOVE no worries. I am still waiting for something to happen that will make things more enjoyable. I have faith that something will. I think more and more about starting my own business, but I have a tough time. I know I could do it, but I don't know the direction to take. Not to sound like I'm adding external stuff into my life to improve it, but how great would it be to have my own business, and then the guy could quit and I could be working towards something for me? Dreams dreams dreams...

Today's song of the Day is a song i LOVE. I've been playing it all week. It's always cued up.
Need to Breathe: Something Beautiful

http://www.myspace.com/needtobreathe

It doesn't seem to be on Grooveshark yet. So if you go to their myspace page, scroll down and click on "something Beautiful"....it's so amazing. It's all I've been thinking about all week.