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Some really smart and nice people let their kids do some really stupid stuff inside stores, and are amazed by the idiotic things that happen to them.

Today was a great example.

I had this rather nice family come into my store.  Very pleasant people.  Mom was trying to get her two daughters supplied for dance class.  She was asking some very detailed and pointed questions with the clear intent to get her kids into the right product for them.  Kudos, Mom.  Dad was kind off in oblivion, with a Just-Get-This-Over-With stare and comments.  The two kids were overloaded with sugar.  It's just not fair to have that kind of energy around someone who is still half asleep...

Anyhow, this family was trying on shoes.  One daughter would try on the tap shoes, and the other would run around the store like she was at in the running for the Kentucky Derby, (and winning by 3 furlongs...).   Then they would trade off.  Dad was muttering for them to slow down and behave, but his heart clearly wasn't in it.

Now the problem is where they were before they came to my store.  The previous store sold them two light-up jump ropes.   All was good till Mom decided to let the girls play with them inside my store!

You see the problem with this?

Suddenly my quaint little shoe store became Gold's Gym for the superjuvenile set.   Displays are going flying, people complaining, girls slugging each other with lit up ropes like some sort of sick 80's fetish...   It just was not a pretty site.

And Mom is sitting in the aisle wondering why people are going apeshit!

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I have three employees that speak Farsi (a Persian language).  Farsi supposedly is one of the toughest languages to learn, but that isn't stopping my girls from trying to teach me.  So far, I have mastered one word ("Hello"), and I am slowly picking up a couple of others.  

I really think the girls are doing this to me so they can make fun of the way I talk.  It's giving them quite a laugh.

Now it's really a good thing for me to learn this, since my store has a high percentage of Persian speaking customers.   (I am also learning Spanish for the other dominant language in my area, with a bit more success!) 

Naturally, if I am involved, something is going to go horribly wrong, with some sort of hideous result.   Today, it happened.

I was working alone in the store when two Persian ladies came in.  One was about my age, and the other was born sometime about the time the dinosaurs got wiped out (I mean, she was a walking fossil, completely hunched over and barely moving!).   I said hello to them as they entered, as per our policy (and just trying to be nice... I know, I know... it's not me).   The younger lady said hello in unaccented English.  The biddy turned to me and with all her effort, barely squawks out "salam" (IE hello).  I turned to her and replied "salam".   Her eyes got HUGE (think dinner plates the size of Texas) and just kept craning her neck at me as she walked past.  

I think she wet herself.

It was all I could do to not laugh at her response.

The younger lady told me as she left that the biddy was shocked that anyone like me (IE straight white boy) would even try to speak her language.   She truly did not know how to react!

Who says old people aren't fun?

Fruitcake

'Tis the season for fruitcake.

I hate the holidays.

I really hate fruitcake.


Why is it the holidays bring out the worst in people? The me-first attitude and those that want to use any biological difference as a way to get ahead? Or those too good to get off the phone when they talk to you?

I'm talking about people that expect the world to revolve around them. The ones that were born with the universe owing them EVERYTHING. Those that use everything as an excuse. Look at me cross-eyed? That's an excuse for me to accuse you of every venal sin ever imagined, and a few yet to come.

Yup, Today was fun.



My first fun fruitcake today was a lady that called early in the day. I was working alone on a busy Sunday. I had several customers in line and more in the aisles. Up to this point, I was doing a decent job of balancing the register with service for those in the aisles. Then the phone rang.

This fruit wanted me to look for a shoe for her boy. No problem, just allow me to finish the transaction I was in and I would look. I was told that it could not wait. I told her I would look as soon as I finished, but I couldn't even look until I freed the register so I could check inventory. She agreed to wait.

As soon as I did look, she started asking detailed questions about the product. I answered her. Then she asked me to look for another item. I advised her I had a line at my register that I must help, and that I could call her back when I had no line. She said she would wait.

So I help the line. One customer, Hispanic, complimented me on my patience with everyone (IE being able to help everyone and the customer on the phone... she was happy with me... I musta done fucked up somehow).

As I am ringing on the register, we could all hear the woman screaming at her kids about how the "idiot" on the other end of the phone was ignoring at random, and how she should come before anyone else since she was looking to buy two items.

I finally get back to the phone, locate the items she wants (I don't have them, but another store nearby does). I offer to hold the ones I do have, and she declines.

That's the end of her, right?

Hollow laugh.

Later in the day, she calls back and demands the same information from my part time help. My part-timer, who is relatively new, asks me every question that the fruitcake asks me. After the third question, I know who it is. The conversation ends with Doc offering to hold the merchandise. Again, declined.

But that's not the end.

Late in the day, she comes to my store and chews me and my newest associate out (not the one that got the call) for NOT putting her items on hold. We offer to do this twice, she declined both times, and it's OUR fault it's not on hold? What am I missing here?

I take the time to help her find what I found for her two other times today via phone. She then lays into me because I don't carry certain items that she wants. I explain that I have a smaller store, and as a result, I don't get everything my company carries. She then rips me for not forcing my buyers to send it to me. I then get a new one plastered on me since I am an ass for not knowing exactly what items and what sizes are coming on my next truck (my paperwork just tells me I have a truck coming with X number of cases).

There was just no pleasing this fiend.

I just thanked her for coming in and walked away.


My second fruitcake was one that gets under my skin easy. The "race" card.

I initiated contact with this piece of work by approaching her and her party in the aisle. I said hello and offered to help them locate their choice of items. I then told them about our current promotion and told them to call me if they needed anything before I got back to them. I then went to check on my other customers.

A few minutes later, I popped my head around the corner and asked, "are you still doing all right?". I got an earful as she was talking on her blue tooth, "I am shopping and I am not buying here. I refuse to shop where they stare at me like I am gonna steal just because I am [race excluded]".

This "lady" then went around accosting all my other customers complaining about the racist treatment she had been receiving, since I was "profiling" her and "accusing" her of theft because of her race. This actually got a laugh from a customer, who told her all she heard was me just offering to help.

I finally approached her and asked just what I did that accused her of anything. She said I was constantly checking on her to keep her from stealing. I replied that I was sorry she thought that, but I was just checking to see if she was in need of assistance, just like I do every customer that comes into my store.

She asked to see the manager. I replied, "How can I help you?" and pointed to the Store Manager badge I had on.

She finally had her family member tell her to shut up. They bought their items and left.

So apparently I am racist because I offered to treat you like every other customer in my building... smiling and offering to assist you and telling you about the deals we have, just as our corporate directive tells us to do.

Am I missing something?


As a general rule, if someone is on a cell phone, I offer to assist them quietly, and thereafter just touch base with them using a nod or hand signals until I am certain they are off their phone. Most of the time, and good smile and wave are all it takes for them to know I am there if they have a need.

Then there are the self important pricks who think the world is theirs to command.

A young lady came into the store today, and I said hello and realized quickly she was on her cell phone. I passed her in the aisles a couple of times, each time offering a quiet but noticeable "you doing OK?" as she was yakking away on the rap rod. Each time, I was ignored, even though eye contact was made.

She finally made it to the register, still managing the ear pollution for some poor soul on the other end of the connection. I complete the transaction, hand her the receipt, and she ends her phone conversation. Then the shit went postal.

"Thanks for the help. NOT!" she sniped at me and Doc.

I just said "thank you" and walked away.

Look, if you are in a conversation, I was taught not to interrupt. I made attempts to work with you, which you acknowledged. Don't get your shorts up your ass because I won't kiss your ass when you ignore me.

Besides, I don't care who your friend got blown by last night. If you are at my register, pay for your shit and get out. If you don't have the decency to talk to me, I am not going to talk to you.




I really hate fruitcake.

A Little Love

People hear me rant about the crazy or stupid stuff that goes on daily in retail quite a bit. Sometimes, good stuff happens out of the blue as well.


Yesterday I returned to work after being out for two weeks (vacation and other issues). Any time I miss after a length of time (vacations included), I get really nervous about going back in. Yesterday was no exception. I walked into my store, and MysteryGirl was there. She almost broke into tears and came up to me and demanded a hug. I don't know if she knew how tough walking in was for me, but that one single action told me it would be okay. She made my day.

MysteryGirl wasn't the only one to tell me they missed me. We drop our deposits in person at a nearby bank. Since I am there almost there daily, they have gotten to know me a bit. The two merchant tellers are total smart asses, and friends to boot. Both looked at me and teased me about running away. They also told me I found another job while I was away. (I hadn't. I had interviewed and the jury is still out on one, I shot the other down. But that's not why. Their company has picked off several of my best people in the past.) Both told me they missed me, which is very unusual for them to tell a customer. So unusual that one of the other tellers asked me who I was and what I did to those two...

I also had a few of our regulars stop in and tell me they missed me. I have NEVER had that happen in any of the other retail positions I have held over the last twenty years.

For all the crazy, stupid and funny stuff they do, sometimes people can do the most amazing things by saying something simple.

Thanks to everyone who made my Thursday.





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To follow up on a prior post, I did go back for a second interview with a company in Los Angeles. I turned the position down after an all day second interview. Basically, I had problems with the ethics of the company (which I won't name) and I felt the position was a step in the wrong direction for me in my career. I had done similar work with a very similar company up in San Francisco.

No Thanks.



I did, while driving home from LAX, have an interview over the phone with another retailer (not in direct competition to my current job). That went rather well (which probably means I won't get it) and I should hear back next week.


Should be a fun week.

Going to Hell in a Dozen Handbags

I don't understand women.

Check that. NO men understand women.

Well, maybe Hugh Hefner, but that's a different story. (How the devil does that fossil have that many hot young women crawling around his bed? Wait... they're plastic, so it doesn't count.... But I digress.)

One young man at my store today started getting his education on women's OTHER side... And it ain't the sexy one.


An older lady and what was obviously her son came to the store today and were shopping around. They made their selections and placed them on my counter. As I started ringing the purchase, the mother went over and started checking out the handbags. That's when the fun began.

"You don't need another purse!" the young man said.

His mother's jaw hit the floor. I don't know if she was in shock that he would talk to her in public that way, or that he committed the sacrilege of telling a woman she doesn't need another handbag.

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"You already have 13 of 'em" he complained.

She grabbed the one she was looking at and put it with her purchase.

At this point, I had to get involved.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" I inquired.

"Sure."

"How old are you?" I asked, smiling and knowing he couldn't be more than half my age.

"17. Why?" he asked.

"You will learn!" I replied.

His mother started laughing.

"Learn what?"

"That women never have too many handbags or shoes. Trust me. Just accept this fact now and your life will be a lot easier, specially when you get serious with someone someday. Just accept the fact that the closet is for her, and it gets a LOT easier!"

His mother just grinned.

Mentor

People are the best part of retail, as well as the worst. Sometimes, they are both at the same time.

I received an email from a friend and former co-worker of mine back in Kansas City today. This friend is in a serious quandary with a job she loves, and it's messing with me being 1800 miles away and not able to help.


SR started in my department just after I got my first promotion into "legitimate" management over 10 years ago. She was one of my first hires, and one of the first people for me to interview. Guess I did all right, as she is still working there and loving it.

SR has always had a very twisted and fun sense of humor. She literally could find the humor in any situation, and knew just when to make everyone laugh. Even better, she knew when not to do that as well, and when to be the supportive friend, to hell with ranks and such at work.

When I left KC, she and I traded contact information, and through the years have maintained contact. When I go back to KC and visit friends, she is one I go out of my way to see. One trip, she and I piled into her car and drove to St. Louis for a day. It was a highlight of that trip. I can also remember her throwing a surprise party for me at my favorite bar (Johnny's Tavern in Overland Park, KS) when I flew out one time, though I don't recall leaving that party, and I deny all her stories about said exit...


Today I got an email from her asking about a touchy situation at work. She has had some health issues, and it appears that the DM has taken away one of the key accommodations that allows her to continue her job. The reason, she told me, was that it was aesthetically unappealing. She was understandably upset when she went to her boss and was told to deal with it (though that boss did use much more polite language than that!).

SR wanted to know what she should do. Yes, I would like your input.

What was cool about this was that SR is still seeking me out for advice, even 10 years after I stopped being her boss.

I know her manager. In fact, I was very surprised to find that the manager she is talking about is the very same one I was an assistant to when I worked in that same store! And it's even more shocking to me that this same manager is taking such a hard line on this, since I knew her to be a very fair person.

Retail Drama. Gotta love it.

My advice to SR was to have her sit down off the sales floor with her boss and talk. Explain why this decision is such a problem to her, and seek pro-active solutions. Maybe they can come to an understanding and therefore a reasonable solution that makes everyone happy and healthy. Maybe they could try a couple of solutions to see if something is possible without just saying NO.


Here's hoping that I helped for once.




Things like this are the best part of retail to me. I made a positive impact on SR, and she never lets me forget it (or the birthday party I had at Johnny's that one time...). And what's more, she still trusts my judgement after all this time knowing me. Wow.

I can honestly say that I still maintain contact with at least one person from every retail job I have had, save one (at Ames, in Woodbridge, VA, when I was in high school). Some still come to me for advice, or just a different perspective on something (Like, what in the hell is management thinking? Make this make sense to me!). Sometimes, it's just to rant. Others, it's because we just bonded well as a team and made good friends. Sometimes, I just follow up on them because that's what I do. It's a people business, but you can't forget the people making it happen.


I hope that SR comes to a positive solution. I would hate to see her leave a job she loves over something stupid, ten years after she learned to love that job.

Besides, if she's still there ten years after I hired her, I got her into this mess. I don't want to be held responsible!

The Mother of God

Every so often, someone comes along in your retail career that turns your world around.

I have always made a light-hearted joke to a new crew when starting a new job, just to break the ice and let them know I don't take myself too seriously. I am here to do a job, and I intend to get it done, but I am going to have fun doing it. The statement usually gets a few strange looks, a laugh, and a few smiles to let people know I appreciate a little humor.

Imagine my horror when that joke got turned on me!

The statement?

"We will get along just fine once you realize that I am God. Thank God for Athiests!"


I had been working for a retailer in San Jose, CA for a little less than a year when I was transferred to the Fremont, CA store. It was a bittersweet move for me. For one thing, my commute was being cut from 25 miles (which, in the Bay Area, means about 2 hours) to 3 miles (and NO FREEWAYS!). But I was replacing a good friend, MDC, who was leaving the company.

One thing about transfers. They are always more fun than leaving a company. You are leaving friends, but there is still opportunity to interact with them as you go about business. And it's a new horizon and usually, a vote of confidence from the higher-higher than you are a capable person. So I looked to this as a great chance to improve my quality of life.

I had to stop by the new store the night before I started there so I could get my password and key. In doing so, MDC was there and asked me to join the going-away party his team was throwing that night. I said I would be there.

The party was down the road at City Beach, a sports club/restaurant. I arrived, had a drink and waited for everyone to show up. Finally they rolled in, about 10 people. Finally, MDC walked in, and I bought him a round.

MDC and I sat around talking as people started shooting pool, playing video games or just horsing around. I asked him what I was getting into, since I was going from one of the highest volume stores in our district to one of the lowest. He said I was joining a cast of real personalities, and that they were more concerned about me than I was them.

"So, do I break out the God-Line?" I asked him.

"Sure, but don't be surprised if it turns on you" was his smirking reply.

Finally, everyone got buzzed enough to let the barriers fall, and started asking me questions. Several people were there, mostly young, but one older woman. Everyone was fun and laughing until LittleBigWoman asked the dreaded question.

"What are you like to work with?", she asked.

I swallowed the last of my drink, faced everyone, who had gotten deadly silent, and dropped the line. From off to the side, I got a sarcastic comeback. "Well, I must be the mother of god since I am way older than you, Junior".

I had just met the woman everyone called Grandma. She was easily the oldest person in the store, and could quite literally be their grandmother. I told her she wasn't old enough to be my grandmother, so Mother was a possibility.

Imagine my fun the next day when I learned that she was assigned to work my quadrant of the store.

Grandma and I developed a healthy respect and friendship at work. We were always joking and keeping it light during our time together. In time, I did look to her as a resource and pseudo-mother figure. I took to calling her Mum, and she would call me Junior. We must have developed some respect. She followed me to my next company when I landed back in Fremont.

Two stories from this company stand out to me about her.

We were having a corporate visit one day, and while I don't recall who it was, I know they were way higher than the standard DM or RM visit. During the walkthru, there is a page on the intercom, "Junior to the front, please, for return. Junior to the front." My boss, the Dog, was wondering just who was being paged. "We don't have a Junior, do we?" he asked. The DM was just as confused as she prided herself on knowing everyone. I quickly replied that it was me, and that I would be right back. I walked off to dazed and confused suits trying to hide my laughter. Apparently, Mum decided I needed a breather, so got me out of the walkthru for a few.

Another time, we were working in the Back To School section, helping a young lady who was getting a collection for her freshman dorm at Fresno State. We had spent some time looking for
just the right things when I saw Mum walk by. So I called out, "Mum, what do you think of this?". She looked and said she thought there was a better option and would be right back, telling me, "Keep the young lady happy while I look, Junior". I spent the next 15 minutes explaining to the girl's mother that Mum was not my true mother (inside jokes are the best!) and that I did not have any sexual designs on her daughter, even though she was cute.


Over our time working together, Mum became one of my closest friends. Everytime I go home to the Bay Area, I make it a point to see her. She became a key part of BossLady's life as well, as the two got to work together with me at one time. (If you haven't figured out, BossLady is my better half). When BossLady wanted a kitten, Mum delivered (that is a story in and of itself). When I had surgery on my arm, she insisted on running me to the hospital and taking me home.

It's truly funny how you find the best people in the worst situations. I don't look back at my time in that company with any fondness. But The Mother of God, well, she put me in my place and will always be an idol to me.