Retail Years
Me: For the zillionth year in a row, I work every other day the week of Christmas. Two days off together is apparently impossible.
Friend: You are not old enough to have worked a zillion years.
Me: Retail years are like dog years...only quadrupled.
~~
I'm not a writer. Well, I write and if that was the minimum standard, I'd be a writer. To me, a writer is someone who gets paid to write. In my writing "career", I've been paid a sum total of $150. That's it. An entire decade and that's all I have to show. Thus far. I mean maybe one day I'll sell a book for more than I'll pay to produce it and actually - wait for it - make a profit. In the meantime, I work retail.
I got the job in 2003 and intended to stay six months, maybe less. It was better than selling gym memberships on commission, but just barely. I took one promotion, then another. Before I could blink twice I was a manager. Then I dared to blink again and I wasn't a manager anymore. At the risk of sounding like a website for rescued pitbulls, it was due to no fault of my own. "Right sizing" and budget cuts relegated me back to the hourly rank and file. In 2018, I'll hit the fifteen year mark. If it wasn't for the four weeks vacation I'll start getting, I don't know if I'd stick around.
That's actually a lie. Fifteen years of annual raises, even if the majority barely registered on my pay check, mean I make a decent enough living. Plus my resume is now completely saturated with retail. - i.e. My chances of getting a job NOT in retail are beyond slim. I may have a master's degree and many scintinillatingly good qualities, but no one outside of retail is going to give me a first look much less offer me a job.
So, here I am and here I will stay. In retail. Where I've been snapped at, whistled at, bowed up to, talked down to, and had my earrings called "faggoty" (I replied, "Well, I'm female so..."). I've been asked asked how many feet a 12"x12" ceramic tile covers and been called stupid for refusing to return a product purchased from my competitor. I've worked every shift imaginable from early mornings to overnights, sometimes all within the same week. I've cl'opened (closed at midnight and opened at 5am) more times that I can count. I've worked anywhere from six to thirteen days straight almost monthly (I'm currently on my second eight day run in three weeks). I've worked nearly every flag holiday, Easter, Black Friday, Christmas Eve, New Years Eve, and New Years Day, plus ninety percent of weekends, for the past fifteen years. Oh, my days off more often than not split.
Truthfully, I'm one of the lucky ones. I was hired before retail wages went in the tank about a decade ago. In fact, my starting wage back in '03 in little tiny Texarkana was more than we hire people at TODAY in Austin where the cost of living rivals parts of California. I put up with a lot but I get paid more than minimum wage. Imagine for a moment all the poor (and I do mean poor) retail workers dealing with the same bullshit I do...and needing a second retail job just to make ends meet.
We should work something besides retail? Like what? Manufacturing? Because factory jobs are so plentiful these days? Reality check - The majority of jobs that don't require technical experience are service oriented, including retail and hospitality. We should go back to school? Get an education? Ok. You still need someone to mix your paint and tell you how to get permanent marker off your engineered wood floor. Someone has to stock the shelves, process your return, load your Christmas tree on top of your car, and explain that "Internet Only" means that we don't sell it in the store.
The crime of it is that I actually enjoy my job. Sure, I don't like the hours or the schedule or douche bag customers, but - honest to goodness - I like helping people. I like doing the unexpected that makes someone's day. I like turning a complete a-hole into someone who smiles and says thank you on his way out the door. I like repeat customers who come back again and again because I've earned their trust.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not going to pass up a book deal. I'd write for a living in a hot second. In the meantime, even though it can absolutely suck and the years pass like dog years on steroids, I'll keep doing what I do. Oh, I'll bitch about it occasionally (like right now), but I'll endure because, as sad as it may seem, I've actually gotten pretty good at this retail/customer service thing. Gotta have something to show for my fifteen years in Retail Hell. I mean more than the four weeks vacation I'll get come March. March 24th to be exact. But who's counting?
Friend: You are not old enough to have worked a zillion years.
Me: Retail years are like dog years...only quadrupled.
~~
I'm not a writer. Well, I write and if that was the minimum standard, I'd be a writer. To me, a writer is someone who gets paid to write. In my writing "career", I've been paid a sum total of $150. That's it. An entire decade and that's all I have to show. Thus far. I mean maybe one day I'll sell a book for more than I'll pay to produce it and actually - wait for it - make a profit. In the meantime, I work retail.
I got the job in 2003 and intended to stay six months, maybe less. It was better than selling gym memberships on commission, but just barely. I took one promotion, then another. Before I could blink twice I was a manager. Then I dared to blink again and I wasn't a manager anymore. At the risk of sounding like a website for rescued pitbulls, it was due to no fault of my own. "Right sizing" and budget cuts relegated me back to the hourly rank and file. In 2018, I'll hit the fifteen year mark. If it wasn't for the four weeks vacation I'll start getting, I don't know if I'd stick around.
That's actually a lie. Fifteen years of annual raises, even if the majority barely registered on my pay check, mean I make a decent enough living. Plus my resume is now completely saturated with retail. - i.e. My chances of getting a job NOT in retail are beyond slim. I may have a master's degree and many scintinillatingly good qualities, but no one outside of retail is going to give me a first look much less offer me a job.
So, here I am and here I will stay. In retail. Where I've been snapped at, whistled at, bowed up to, talked down to, and had my earrings called "faggoty" (I replied, "Well, I'm female so..."). I've been asked asked how many feet a 12"x12" ceramic tile covers and been called stupid for refusing to return a product purchased from my competitor. I've worked every shift imaginable from early mornings to overnights, sometimes all within the same week. I've cl'opened (closed at midnight and opened at 5am) more times that I can count. I've worked anywhere from six to thirteen days straight almost monthly (I'm currently on my second eight day run in three weeks). I've worked nearly every flag holiday, Easter, Black Friday, Christmas Eve, New Years Eve, and New Years Day, plus ninety percent of weekends, for the past fifteen years. Oh, my days off more often than not split.
Truthfully, I'm one of the lucky ones. I was hired before retail wages went in the tank about a decade ago. In fact, my starting wage back in '03 in little tiny Texarkana was more than we hire people at TODAY in Austin where the cost of living rivals parts of California. I put up with a lot but I get paid more than minimum wage. Imagine for a moment all the poor (and I do mean poor) retail workers dealing with the same bullshit I do...and needing a second retail job just to make ends meet.
We should work something besides retail? Like what? Manufacturing? Because factory jobs are so plentiful these days? Reality check - The majority of jobs that don't require technical experience are service oriented, including retail and hospitality. We should go back to school? Get an education? Ok. You still need someone to mix your paint and tell you how to get permanent marker off your engineered wood floor. Someone has to stock the shelves, process your return, load your Christmas tree on top of your car, and explain that "Internet Only" means that we don't sell it in the store.
The crime of it is that I actually enjoy my job. Sure, I don't like the hours or the schedule or douche bag customers, but - honest to goodness - I like helping people. I like doing the unexpected that makes someone's day. I like turning a complete a-hole into someone who smiles and says thank you on his way out the door. I like repeat customers who come back again and again because I've earned their trust.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not going to pass up a book deal. I'd write for a living in a hot second. In the meantime, even though it can absolutely suck and the years pass like dog years on steroids, I'll keep doing what I do. Oh, I'll bitch about it occasionally (like right now), but I'll endure because, as sad as it may seem, I've actually gotten pretty good at this retail/customer service thing. Gotta have something to show for my fifteen years in Retail Hell. I mean more than the four weeks vacation I'll get come March. March 24th to be exact. But who's counting?
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