In case you didn’t know, the thing I do that pays the bills, or my day job, as I prefer to call it, is in retail. I’m not anything special, like a manager or something. In fact I used to be lowest of the low in retail. The now absent (from my place of employment anyway) People Greeter was, in fact, the lowest paying position.
My book Black Friday: A Zombie Story actually takes place in said environment and was started while I was still greeting.
No, I am a sales associate. I work in Health and Beauty Aides. I’ve been in this department for about two years now (almost five total in Retail), though the days do tend to run together.
I find it necessary to point out that working in retail is much more… Complicated than you might think. As a retail worker you have a lot to deal with, a lot of responsibility, and
even more crap that falls on you if your not—.
Scratch that last thought. I promised myself once that I would NEVER EVER rant or vent my frustrations about my employment on this blog. I will, however, state that as a person with a college degree, I feel a little ashamed of myself for being in retail. Still. That said, I am happy to have a job, regardless, and need the money.
But, saying I wouldn’t vent, does not imply that I won’t discuss hilarious Retailiations (I made that up just now, forgive me) in which I regale you with tales of woe and of whoa and also of LOLz of my nearly five years in Retail. Buddy do I have some whoppers!
No one will be identified, no names will be used and there will be no dissing of my employer or co-workers or management team. Just crazy stuff.
So, here’s the “Today I Learned” part.
1. Apparently we stock “Girly Razors”. I’m not quite sure what these are. I assume they are meant to be stocked near the “Women’s Razors” not with the “Men’s Razors”. I know we have them, though, because a customer I overheard, from three isles away, stated that she “hasn’t bought girly razors in forever”. My reaction was a silent “LOL Whaat” and also “Do we carry those, cause, I work here… And… Never seen ’em.”
2. My store is apparently the perfect place to go to discuss vital information, air your dirty laundry, or argue with estranged family members, over the phone. Also, all you moms out there, you are required to speak to your daughters. “You don’t want to talk to me?! You have to talk to me because your my mom!” She wasn’t coming home, apparently. I don’t know, but I’m sure that should you need to have an important discussion, roaming around in a public place is the way to do it.
I have also encountered (eavesdropped, I’m sorry) on one man’s end of a phone conversation which included the line “if anyone asks, you haven’t seen me, spoken to me, and you don’t know where I am.” At this point writers brain kicks in. He’s on the run from the mob for leaking their plans to blackmail the mayor into throwing the election.
But my retail employee brain overrides: Dude, you are in the most popular public place in a very small town. You’ve signed your death warrant with a smiley face.
3. On a completely non-retail note: I have 30 followers. Thank you.
Ps expect more RETAILiations soon!