Waving a roll of zebra wrapping paper over her head, as if it were a Starwars Light-sword, the well-coiffed matron in hot pink and lime green spoke with authority.
“I need more than one roll of this God-damned paper. What do you expect me to do with only one roll? Someone find me another one…now.”
Welcome to where I work, ‘retail-hell’.
On the verge of telling Ms. I-have-nothing-else-to-worry-about-but-paper what she could do with her one roll of God-awful-ugly Christmas wrap I decided to go back to my department and make pretty with the dishes. That’s what I do, make pretty, with anything that has to do with table-top and kitchen.
I used to like my job but not anymore…something changed this year.
The American buying public has become demanding, arrogant, rude and above all, they are slobs. I watch as they destroy packaging, man-handle the merchandise and then purchase an unopened pristine box of whatever they cannot live without.
My department has a large display of boxed glasses. Every Monday morning one of my first tasks is to recover that area. Wine glasses are lined up on the shelves, removed from their boxes and compared. The customers do not put back what they take out. Cleaning up after customers is part of my job but I can’t help but think, that these adults were not taught to clean up after themselves, or they are just plain lazy. I bet they don’t make their beds and their underwear is left in a circle on the bathroom floor where they step out of them. (I found a pair of clean white granny panties on the floor in the cookware aisle once.) Their kitchen sinks are full of dishes too. I shudder to think when the last time was they changed their sheets.
I used to like the public; I don’t anymore probably because I’ve been in retail too long and because this economy’s spenders take way to seriously, image over practability.
Where I work there is no recession.
By the cart load folks are purchasing that which is about what looks good, and impresses, because where I work not a damn thing is needed. The 99% are camping out trying to make a statement, unemployment is at an all-time high, people are living in cars, children are going to bed hungry and we are at war, but where I work the well-coiffed matron does not have to walk around with a roll of zebra wrapping paper up her ass because a dedicated employee, who dismisses being treated like shit because she needs her job, found a second one.
Just one more satisfied customer. Ain’t retail at holiday time grand?
(It took me two years to realize that the granny underpants in the cookware aisle must have been stuck inside a ladies slacks from the dryer because how else could someone drop their drawers and walk away commando. This enlightenment came directly after I removed a sock from inside my pants leg on the way to work one morning.)