But I Digress.

It has been an inexcusably long time since I have regailed you with my lively stories. My apologies. My only excuse is that I had about 4-5 days in a row off, so I had nothing to write about, and then I've been working close to the last two weeks solid, so I've had zero time to write.

Let's see, there's all sorts of little nuggets from the 'mart I could report, but if you'll excuse this little foray into self-examination, I think I'll skip the majority of them. I'm noticing that my life is being more and more consumed by stories of KMart, and I don't want that to happen. It seems like all I do is say things like, "So the other day at KMart . . ." and I refuse to let this job--this excuse for a paycheck--seep into my life and become an acceptable part of it.

On the other side of my life, the part that doesn't revolve around white collared shirts and being infuriatingly chipper no matter what, I'm doing okay. I'm still looking for jobs, and I'm still a little depressed every now and then that nothing's happening on that front, but there's a lot of good in my life right now. Of course, the majority of my free time has been consumed lately with devouring Charlaine Harris' southern vampire series. (Eric--yummy).

What I really need to be doing is writing my play. I've redone Act I, and I need to rewrite Act II so we can workshop it before the end of the semester. Hopefully I'll light a literary fire under my own ass and pen something this week. At least a scene. Maybe more. It's the tricky unwinding-messy-plot point, though, so it's difficult. I'm also worried it won't be long enough, but we'll see on that I guess. Only way to tell is to start writing. I'm hoping that if they do indeed produce it, as the current plan is, that it will get accepted into at least the regional competition. This could be the door that I need to get through to do something besides tell stories about KMart. Once this one is finished, I have the bare bones of a comedy I want to start. Hopefully my humor, which tends to go over the heads of my esteemed coworkers, will translate into an intelligent, witty play.

One can dream. And since the blog is supposed to chronicle my journey through my mundane job, I will offer this bit of funny: (a piece of flair I found on Facebook) "Jesus Saves [when he shops at KMart]."

Deja Vu

The cat urine lady came back and made a layaway payment. I had to go to the bath and body section after she left and smell all the lotions just to get the stench out of my nose and keep me from gagging.

Do you wash your clothes in Windex? Cuz I can see myself in your pants.

Let's be honest here, KMart is no high-end store. We sell cheap crap. Not necessarily bad, because people tend to "need" a lot of cheap crap to stuff their lives full. But anyway, we're a supermarket. Okay? Our clothes are going to fall apart sooner rather than later, and, in the case of my husband, our jeans are going to shrink to resemble capris after one washing.

So, Mr. I-don't-know-what-size-jeans-I-wear, I do not have a tape measure. We are not a men's clothing store. I will not look like I'm assaulting you on the security cameras because you "don't want to go through all the trouble" of trying pants on in the fitting room. I'm very sorry that you are unaware of what size pants you wear, perhaps you could consider purchasing the same size you are currently wearing, as they appear to fit you quite well. Don't know what size those are? Again, I direct you to the fitting rooms.

Please do not stand there and act surprised that a part-time filler in KMART does not carry a tape measure around in order to assist fine, redneck gentlemen like yourself to determine what size pants to wear. If you don't want to try them on, and don't want to buy them unless you know they're going to fit, I'd say you are SOL.

Enjoy your day and thanks for shopping at KMart.

Cell Phone Etiquette

Two days ago. Jewelry department. This happened:

A woman, browsing some of the cases. I was with another customer, so as soon as I was done with her, I went over to the woman waiting. She has her cell phone plastered to her ear, but she is not talking, so I assume that she may be on hold. I ask quietly, but loud enough for her to hear, "Can I help you with anything?"

She responds by giving me an exasperated face, and holding her finger up (you know, when you hold up 1 finger to indicate 'hold on just a minute'--yeah, that one) which kind of irritates me. If you're in my department (one specifically, where all the merchandise is in locked cases) and I ask if you need to help, get off your damn phone. Anyway. I stand there, for almost a full five minutes--do you realize how long that really is? It's ridiculous.--and after said 5 minutes, she hangs up, turns to me and says, "No thanks. I'm just browsing."

I want 5 minutes of my life back, please. I had other stuff I could have been doing instead of pretending not to listen to one-half of your unnecessary phone conversation.

You Can't Fix Stupid: Interactive Post

Okay, friendly readers, I'm inviting your enthusiastic participation in this entry. I'm holding a contest/poll so to speak. Today, I had several customers who seemed to want to compete for ask-Holly-the-stupidest-question-ever award. So, I'm going to brainstorm the stupidest questions I can remember being asked while working at the 'mart, and you are invited to add your own stupid questions (pertaining to whatever your line of work is) in the comments. Then, whoever was asked the stupidest question wins!

I'll begin.

Exhibit A: Today: A woman picks up 3 sweaters, all of which are on clearance. Two of them were originally priced $19.99, and are clearanced at $4.99. The other is oringinally priced $29.99 and is clearanced at $11.99. They're all on the same table. She gets to the checkouts and I get called up there because she wants to know why I won't give her all three sweaters for $4.99. Because they're different prices, I tell her. "But they were on the same table. Why are their clearance prices different?" . . . "Because their original prices are different." . . . "But they were on the same table!"
Her logic makes no sense to me.

Exhibit B: Today: (A woman in jewelry) "I was just at WalMart looking for baby earrings and they said they didn't carry them because they'd been banned in the state of Illinois. Do you guys carry any?" --I can find no proof that they have been banned, but the stupidity of her question still remains.

Exhibit C: A while ago: You may remember this one from an earlier post: "I'm looking for a size 3 shoe for a boy, and I found this 13. Are they the same size?"

Exhibit D: This happens all the time: "This sign says that clearance items are an additional 40% off already reduced items, so does that mean that the price marked is the price, or that I can take an extra 40% off the clearance price?"

Do these people hear themselves?

Okay, now, please post yours and we can all feel intelligent and superior to everyone else.

I really hate money.

I worked on checkout the last couple days. They were short and I wanted to extra hours, so I volunteered to cover a shift or two. Working the floor seems to be much more plentiful in "OH MY GOD" moments, but Checkout had its perks too.

For example, yesterday, a man came through my line and purchased condoms, Maxim, and various food items. And shortly after that, I sold KY Intense to an older couple, all while making innocent small talk.

I also had my first experience with someone getting angry at me for offering him a rewards card. The 'mart just started this program, actually a couple of months ago, much like a County Market Max card, or like the Shopko rewards program. We scan the card when they come through, and they earn 1% back for everything they purchase, and can also win instant prizes. Now, I realize that 1% is actually pretty pitiful--you have to spend $1000 to earn $10. But, it's still not hurting you to sign up, unless you don't want to give out your personal information, which is completely understandable.

Now, when working checkout, we are required to ask everyone if they have a rewards card, and if not, ask them to sign up for the program (and we are required to get 10% of the people that come through our lane signed up). Most people offer a polite, yet disinterested "no," or ask more about the program and then eventually sign up. But not this guy. I asked if they had a card, his wife said no, and that she hadn't even heard of the program. So I explained the basics to her. She turned to her husband and asked if he wanted to sign up, and he yelled, "WHAT?" So I repeated the benefits of the program to him. Then he looked at me, honestly angry and said, "One percent back? That's not worth a damn. My god damn time is worth more than that."

I said they were in no obligation to sign up, and if they changed their minds, they could always enroll at a later date. He proceeded to mutter under his breath, but still loud enough for me to hear, about how stupid it was, and not worth it, and ridiculous and just kept repeating, "My time is worth more than that."

I'm not quite sure what he meant by that, either. Unless he was trying to say that it wasn't worth his time to sign up for such pitiful savings, but it seriously takes less than a minute because I just type it all into the computer and skip the paper application.

But whatever. Other people get mad at me because they misread signs and are getting charged more than they want to be, and he gets mad because the store won't give him back more free money than he thinks his time is worth.

I hate money. I hate not having it, I hate fighting with people over it. I hate the stress it causes. We should just switch back to a barter system. I have a lot of useless crap I could exchange for other useless crap.

And now, our feature presentation.

Okay, now that I've at least slightly recovered from my emotional breakdown, I'll get back to the reason anyone reads this: the real stories of working in retail.

A woman called my boss a bitch, a fuckin' ho, and told her not to "fuckin talk to my son." And then she yelled loudly so anyone in range could hear (not that there was, because, really, who goes to KMart?) that she wasn't giving us "another damn dime," and she was "fucking going to Walmart." And all in front of her two young sons, one a toddler, and another who looked to be around 7 or 8.

We both smiled and wished her a nice day.

Earlier that same day, a man got furious at me, another girl in my department, and then my boss, because we didn't have the stroller his daughter wanted in stock, and we refused to sell him the display piece (on which, he actually cut the zip-ties holding it to the display area, and got it down on the floor, along with 4 other pieces). We can't sell display pieces, it's company policy because of liability issues. He screamed that we "just lost a sale," and when none of us seemed to care, he yelled it again, "In case you didn't hear me, YOU JUST LOST A SALE." My boss responded with, "Oh, I heard you. I just don't care. Leave the store now, please. And have a good afternoon."

Quite priceless. That same day, another girl in my department, who is 6 months pregnant, got called a "good-for-nothing fat bitch" because she didn't see a man waiting to look at a watch in the locked case, and waited on another customer first.

The things these people think are a matter of life and death astound me.