Blue Tuesday

I switched days this week with a co-worker, so I get a reprieve from Freak Out Wednesday.

I am back from vacation and so sad. I always hate coming back from trips and my sadness is compounded by the fact that I have to delay my plans to move closer to my boyfriend because I do not have enough money. There I was, back at work, pacing, dismayed by my delay without an end date and nearly imploding from the boredom and tedium. When I acknowledged that I must go to work and excel in order to make the money, I almost lost all semblance of sanity.

Since going out of my gourd and fleeing the store is not a viable option, I gave into an activity which may not be healthy, but sustains me in times of work panic: play shopping! I fondle merchandise which has never previously seemed attractive. A bamboo cutting board, elongated for the serving and slicing of fish? With a groove on the edge to catch the juices? I sort of need it! Especially with all the parties I host. I really don't have enough serving pieces. Ok, maybe I don't host parties, but I want to start, and maybe this lovely cutting board will be just the thing to inspire me!

When I actually type out the thoughts that went through my mind, I want to throw up. That is not the sort of person I am, right? Delusional, materialistic, irrational? The desire to host parties is okay, but thinking that a cutting board with prompt me to do it is insane. That is the thought process a hoarder goes through, right before they are crushed by a mountain of stuff.

I tossed the cutting board back onto the shelf. I don't need to acquire items to get what I want, I need to sell them. Let the merciless commerce begin.

Land of Make Believe

I will start with my thoughts on cell phone etiquette. I don't mind people on cell phones. This is the future and I love that there is a little plastic box I can keep in my pocket to have constant access to people that are important to me. I don't have to wait to tell someone a story; I can text them as it's happening. Even as a retail clerk, there are few times when people on phones bother me; just apologize and take your call. I don't care. I don't even mind when people are on the phone during our entire transaction and we never talk. I don't like to be "shushed" when someone on their phone is holding up a line and I try to move them along. Any other annoyances have yet to reveal themselves to me.

The other day there was a mommie browsing in my department. There is a certain contempt I feel towards mommies, not mothers in general, but the women with entitled, superior attitudes that believe that by giving birth they automatically gain infinite wisdom and deserve endless thanks.

This mommie happened to be on the phone, talking loudly about her children and advising her listener on all child issues. Mommie walked past me several times, and I past her, but she refused to make any eye contact with me. In my experience, this is unusual for someone on their phone. Most people will give you a gesture of some sort as a silent greeting to acknowledge that they see you, unless they are honestly just passing through and not looking at merchandise. This went on for about 20 minutes. I was constantly aware of her location because of her loud conversation. Then shit got awkward.

One of the office workers just happened to be passing by Mommie as she got off her phone and IMMEDIATELY desired service. Office worker called out "who's supposed to be working up here?! This customer has a question!" I came around the corner and tried to cooly defend myself and shame Mommie by saying "she's been on the phone." I think Office Worker got that I was not ignoring the customer and Mommie was already over it and asking me questions so quickly that I couldn't even answer them.

Then I realized Mommie was playing shopper. I don't know if I have always dealt with so many play shoppers or if these tough times have created psychological voids that spending used to fill. There is a need or desire for a product. There is the thrilling and frustrating hunt and the consulting with friends and clerks. Then there is the find, the transaction, and finally, the item is placed in the home. It is satisfying. So when people can't afford anything, their needs and desires become fantastical; if they can never find it, they never have to face the fact that they can't buy it.

Maybe I was cruel to Mommie. I realized early on what she was doing, but I have a hard time turning down my dutiful clerk mode. My job is to try to give people what they want. You can imagine Mommie's frustration when I was delivering on her absurd requests. Her requests changed as we stood there and looked in catalogs. Eventually she was asking for things completely opposite of her first inquiry. Finally, she mercifally cut herself off and decided that she would have to "keep looking."

Play shoppers take note: I don't mind participating in your head games, but don't make trying to get me in trouble or fired part of your routine. Some would say that's bad Karma. I say it's just dick.

Fantasy world part 1

I had a woman ask me today about the various cleaning tools we sell. I really hate to talk about all the cleaning tools because I sort of think most of them are bullshit. Like, how many microfiber wands do you need? Many of the people that buy the cleaning tools are extremely anal and want to make sure they get the "right tool for the right job," and they can't handle my relaxed, "they'll ALL do the job, man" attitude.

But this lady was a little wacky. She was jittery as all get out and glupping on a diet Wired beverage while we were talking. She wanted to know which tool to use to clean her floor. I showed her. She told me she already had that one and wanted to know what to use when they were REALLY dirty. I don't like to hear about people's filthy homes. I am a messy person and would rather spend my money on wine rather than expensive cleaning products. A cleaning discussion can lead dangeroulsy close back to my own dirty home. And that home is not part of my customer service fantasy world.

My fantasy home is tidy; a place for everything and everything in its place. I have tasteful wood and tile throughout, light filled rooms with charming window treatments, mismatched and well loved furniture. My kitchen is an epicenter of activity, and all my tools are smartly stored on hooks, bars, and shelves. My bathroom is a spotless getaway reminscent of the interior of a seashell. And my room, so unlike all the rooms of my past, is devoid of any possessions; a soft, warm place to sleep, read and think.

So I let them think, and hide my mess within.