Dust catcher

At work yesterday, I was marking down some stemware. There were these very tall, dramatic wine glasses and they were coated with dust. It was the wineglass that I dropped my first week of work: clumsy new girl, me, backed into a rack of fragiles and one of them fell. I can still see it, in slow motion, falling from the top. But the glasses are tempered in 3 places, and it bounced once it hid the floor. I was saved from humiliation.

I thought about buying one for nostalgic reasons. It is a funny story to tell, especially when you are holding the big delicate glass, but I try to be careful about buying things at work because I am bored or feel I want something to keep a memory. I lifted the glass towards my lips in a mock sip. If the glass felt comfortable, I might consider buying it.

Instead of red wine notes, I got a nose full of dust. I was not even inhaling. Suddenly the whole situation felt clumsy and cheap and I felt that I had been trying to sell the glass to myself. If I had one glass that was simply a story prop, that would be quite a boring story after awhile. And if I spent an hour's wages on a piece of stemware, it would make that glass too precious. My life does not need complicated stemware.

I hate the smell of dust.

Dance.

I went to work yesterday chipper and with a positive attitude, though anxious because I had a lot of errands to run on my lunch break.

Two of the earliest customers were Canadian woman, friends, shopping together. They were dressed up for a day out and one of them was dancing as she shopped and singing along with the oldies music that we were playing. It reminded me of one of the model quotes in the Boden catalog I'd been looking through the night before. Something like, "if I could go back in time: I would dance more." And why not?, I thought as I watched the customer shimmy through the aisles. Dancing is fun, right? Ladies love to dance. Look at how the customer is having so much fun!

I rang up the dancing lady. While I was wrapping her glass jars in paper to cushion them, I felt spiritual and sisterly; why shouldn't we dance when we want to and be a little wacky? We have so little time in life. Why shouldn't I be happy for womankind when they can grab some moments of joy and dance and sing?

Then I realized I was still at work. It had become busy all of a sudden and I was by myself, so I helped people in the order I saw them appear. My co-worker came and helped me ring everyone up. Dancing lady was at the counter again. Her bags were on the counter in front of her.

We are not sisters, dancing lady and I; she is the customer and I am the clerk. So why should I be surprised when she too took on a bit of superior attitude when I asked if she needed anything else? Her response, though seemingly harmless, was terse and seemed to say "do not attempt to KNOW what I NEED, retail store worker."

I do not know if I over-analyse every word that comes out of customers' mouths or if I have become very good at reading people and detecting lies and fake emotions.

Probably both.

I can help the next person in line!

when it's breaked, you got to faked

Today when I got to work, my co-worker that is allergic to sugar was eating a doughnut. She offered me one of the others she had bought and in my greed for morning sugar, I didn't think to ask the usual, "and how are you this morning?" I slammed the doughnut and was grateful. I was running a wee bit late and had a major sweet tooth right from the start.

Later she told me that her boyfriend had broke up with her the night before. Breakups are always weird, and it is usually worse to be the one broken up with and not the one doing the deed. Throughout the day, she got teary-eyed and would say goofy things once in awhile. At one point she told me how she was having a hard time being friendly with customers.

Tell me about it. Heartbreak is the reason I got into this business.

I was trying to be supportive and funny and I told her that it would be sort of awesome if she just started crying. Our customers talk to us like we are emotionless robots, so showing them some gross, raw emotion might be hilarious. That made her laugh a little anyway.

But really, what do you do when you see a clerk having a bad day? It always makes me feel a little uncomfortable and I will often think about them later. I always want to be able to say the right thing, but I realize I am just a customer and I am probably making them feel weird and red blotchy faced.

We all take our turns being vulnerable and uncomfortable.

Sac up

Today one of my co-workers was fired. Although I was surprised and disappointed, I cannot say that I was completely shocked. She was a good worker, but the higher-ups didn't like her and although there are reasons you cannot fire someone, the small business is not a democracy. Sometimes, if you get yourself disliked, you can never redeem yourself and it is just a matter of time before you get canned.

Jaded clerk that I am, I just kept on working. I am ashamed to admit that there is a part of my brain thinking "better her than me." I must survive. I have no savings, insurance, or support network. If I don't have my job, all I have is debt and destitution. At previous jobs, I have seen awesome co-workers disposed of for the sketchiest reasons, reasons worse than the ones used today. All I can hope is that in the long run, this will be better for her; she will find a better job, more related to her educational field, with better pay, and satisfaction at the end of the day.

What bothers me most about this event is that supposedly it was set off by a customer complaint, by phone, against my co-worker because she had "attitude." I realize many customers think that when they walk into the store, the service and endless attention we provide are because they are SUCH GREAT PEOPLE! We are there to work. We are paid to be nice. We are usually genuine, but we are still hired to act perky, happy, and helpful. I act only to save my life, to keep a job that pays for my shelter, credit card bills, and food.

If you have a bad, yet non-threatening, experience with a clerk, sac up and tell them to their face you have a problem with them. It's not pleasant for either party, but at least you can work it out right there and catch them off guard. Going home, practicing your "I'll have you fired!" speech in the mirror, and calling the manager from the safety of your sofa is the most pathetic way out.

This is why I must never have sad days. To most customers, I am not human. Emotions are dangerous. Do not have them.