People are...
pigs and thieves.
I'm beyond tired.
My feet hurt.
I have a blister on my big toe.
I have a headache.
I have to piddle around for at least an hour because I can't sleep right away when I get off work this late.
I'm cranky.
So everyone else went to bed to let me stew in my sour mood.
Good call, Ya'll.
Why are people pigs?
...because.
They prowl through the clothing and, when they are done, they throw it on the floor or discard it in the produce aisle.
I realize fully that my job is to pick up after people and refold 7000 shirts a night. I have no problem with this and I am not too proud to pick up after people. But still-a little common courtesy would be nice.
This evening a woman handled a shirt. (as women we can't just look. We have to feel it, hold it up against us, look at it frontwards and backwards ask anyone near us if they think it would make our ass look fat) It was on a table I was refolding. When she was done, she looked right at me, and threw it down.
...and walked away.
Thank you for shopping with us, Ma'am.
Why do I call people thieves?
...because. We'll take anything and hide the packaging in the socks.
Working the unmentionables department I have found torn and empty packaging for:
hearing aid batteries,
mascara,
lip liner,
cell phone holders,
candy wrappers,
earring cards
wallets (where's the irony there?)
One night I found two empty memory card packages hidden in with the thong underwear.
What does that mean?
I think in everyone's best interest I'm going to try the warm milk thing tonight.
...or maybe just some Advil with a vodka chaser.
Yeah. I think I like that better.
What do you think?
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6 comments:
I worked in a small clothing store my senior year in college during Christmas. It was the most depressing Christmas I can remember. In general, people were not so piggish there, but their thoughtlessness when buying a gift just astounded me. I loved the men who came in Christmas Eve, an hour before closing, and said "I need a sweater. I think she's your size. Here, this blue one works."
Wow. Merry Christmas.
Anyway, I view sales clerks in the stores main duty as helping us shop and checking us out. There is no excuse for piggishness. I fold every item I pick up, exactly as I found it. People who treat customer service personnel as their personal maids/servants etc, piss me off and I have no room for them. It goes for folks who treat waitstaff poorly too.
Off my soap box. GRRRR. I hope tomorrow is better...
Aren't you a sweet one!
I do enjoy working with the men who come through the department. Some are completely hapless. Especially when they try to buy bras as presents.
I can tell they want to compare size against mine to give me an idea of what they need, but they stop short out of embarassment.
It's too funny.
Buying bras is easy. There are only three types:
The Salvation Army bra - uplifts the fallen
The Catholic bra - supports the masses
And the Oprah Winfrey bra - makes mountains out of molehills.
Primal- I'll be sure to use that criteria next time I have to help a customer out. It narrows the choices greatly!
I commend you for your patience.
Vodka, for sure.
Jim - PRS
Jim, that's the choice I made. It worked! Go figure.
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