Working Retail This Christmas?
I feel you. I put in my five years of the unbelievable, unfounded, unreasonable, and utter madness of the “general public” as they lined up to celebrate capitalism. And take out their frustrations on a 15-20 year-old cashier. The trouble was, I always started laughing my brains out when one of these shoppers started yelling at me or pounding on the desk in front of me. I had to be carried off for a “time-out” in the office where we counted our tills and such while another staff member was channeled towards the maniacal customer. I always felt bad when that employee was another woman in my general age group, as she would often walk in to that office crying as I walked out, still trying to stop my giggles. I could not help myself. You’re screaming at a teenage girl about two dollars more you thought you were going to save on a book on weight loss written by “Dr. Phil”? No, no method in such madness. Yet, at the end of the day when I discovered that while the credit card system had crashed someone had ripped “me” off for over $200, using a defunct credit card while we had to “go manual” (using calculators, writing out receipts by hand, not swiping but hammering credit cards through the “machines” kept in the dreaded bottom drawers beneath our tills, such that we could take an imprint that would be keyed in manually at the end of one’s shift…oh god, the memories alone push panic buttons) I did cry, after working for over nine hours at $7.50 per. Luckily, I had very wonderful managers, and this was not deducted off my paycheque, but reported to a credit bureau, maybe, eventually, if anyone remembered or really cared at all.
So, this video I just saw on Bravo!, as I am now in a cableful house once again, reminded me of me, reminded me of you, of Christmas, of crushes on co-workers, and all the rest… I hope it lifts your spirits as it did mine!
In other news, when I make one of my bi-annual (or less – for example I’ve put a nine month cap on living here and mooching, as that is when school will once again commence…and yes, I find the fact that this is the gestation period of an infant awesomely awesome…back in the womb…far away from the facebook mom) cross-country moves as I just have – at this time and only at this time – I gravitate towards facebook for a month or so. Since I’m also studying to write this test that will determine whether or not I’ll be allowed to try it at another career, battling psychiatric dictators and pharmaceutical totalitarianism on the ground, rather than from above, as a lawyer rather than a “Doctor of Philosophy” , I’m rather busy and nervy and erratic. So, I have been very happy to connect with a lot of you folks over facebook, and hope that I see even more of you there, temporarily, on the dark side, where we can get to know each other a little better. My “name” is “Scars Are Stories”, but I am rather befuddled by the “book’s” constantly changing security options, so please let me know if you want to “befriend” me on facebook but are not able to find me, and I will figure out what the jam is. (Unless you are a facebook mom that wants to tell me that I need to shut up about being physically and sexually abused last summer – but I don’t anticipate many more of those blathering all over the Internet, as the courts have been alerted and you are, indeed, breaking conditions set by the Crown, which will land the individual you are defending, and possibly yourself, in police custody )
I hope your Monday is not a black one!