R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

This one is for the men. (And the women who berate men.)

I understand how different cultures have their own traditions, morals, standards of living and dress, etc. I understand that each gender has its own role. I respect your decision to abide by those traditions. In your own home.

When you come into the store--any store, really--you have to remember that 1) this ain't your homeland(wherever you come from) and 2) this ain't your house.

Do not disrespect me the way you disrespect the other women in your life.

And yes, it's very obvious whether you respect women in general by the way you treat the sales girl you just met.

Whether women in your country\house are second-class citizens doesn't matter when you walk into a store. Welcome to the the United States. We prefer to speak English and are courteous to women.


Also remember, gentlemen(*cough cough*), that while I rarely say outright how offended I am when you treat me like a servant, I will show you the same disrespect.

[Women mistreating fellow women is an entirely different topic]

The following names are unacceptable to address a female sales associate:

• Baby
• Sweetheart
• Babe
• Darling
• Cutie
• Sweetie
• Mami
• Sugar
• Lady
• Yo, Girl(yes, i've been addressed like this)

The following are only acceptable if you're over 65

• Honey
• Doll
• Love

Any derivatives thereof, obviously, should never be used. Unless you're familiar with her(I have a few frequent, repeat customers who call me "Sweetheart"), never address her like that. It really is offensive.

It's patronizing, belittling, and overbearing.

You don't know me.

I'm not your baby.

Can it, jerk.

That being said, if you grew up in a different country, you need to be even more careful about how you treat women.

I don't care how lowly women are seen in your country and your household; the store is neither of those places. I reciprocate the behavior of my male customers (like I said, women are a whole other can of worms). The more respectful they are to me, the more respectful--and ultimately helpful-- I am to them.

Today a group of Indian men came into the store and immediately started jabbering away with each other, pawing the merchandise. My fellow associate, a young, pregnant woman, greeted them. They ignored her. After a few moments, she asked if they needed help finding anything. Most of them ignored her. One of them rolled his eyes at her, and then turned his back to her.

I physically bit my lip and walked away for a moment. When I saw them methodically destroying a perfectly folded fixture, I approached them, smiled and asked if they needed help. Unable to ignore me, most of them looked at me, then at their leader, seemingly confused. He looked me up and down, sneered, and shook his head. The thought occurred to me that they might not speak english very well, if at all.

A male associate walked by, on an errand, and stopped to see if I needed anything dropped off in a different department.

The men immediately turned towards the male associate and started asking him questions in (heavily accented) english. Raising my eyebrow, I looked at the leader, then at the male associate. He didn't know the answer to the question, but he very politely and efficiently reffered the men to me. They walked away.

So did I.

Later, one of the men came to me asking for a coupon.

I told him to go elsewhere. We had none. A half-truth.

Now, I gave a specific example of one nationality. It happens with every nationality, but more often with some than others. I've encountered a few older, white men who refuse to even acknowledge my existence, let alone allow me to help them. To them--and all men who behave that way--I say one simple thing:

It's 2011. Get over it.

So, male shoppers, do us a favor and address us by "Miss" or "Ma'am." Or, given the general trend for stores to require their associates to wear nametags, the woman's name will do just as well.

And do NOT use reading the nametag as an excuse to look at her chest. Yes, we can tell. And no, we do not find it flattering or acceptable.

(Oh, and a man who tries to pick up a woman at a mall is about as pathetic as they come. No, we do not take you seriously and make fun of you as soon as you're out of ear-shot)

Thank you for shopping with us, today. Be sure to be kind and courteous to all associates.

We hope you have a nice day. Maybe.

Cooking

We all do it.

Cook.

Whether we throw the newest Lean Cuisine in the microwave or create masterpieces on the range, everybody cooks. Sometimes......it gets a bit stinky.

As far as retail goes, you're wondering what the relevance of this is. I'll tell you.

Returns.

Frequent returners(you know who you are) really should take into account how easily clothes soak up odors. Few things are as tacky as returning something that reeks of smoke, weed(yes, weed), your cat, your dogs, or your cooking.

Even if you're not a frequent returner, if you're thinking of or planning to return anything at all, at any point in your life, here is a list of odors you need to watch out for:

• Curry
• Onions
• Curry
• Garlic
• Curry
• Fried Chicken
• Curry
• Fried Pork
• Curry
• Fried Potatoes
• Curry
• Yeah.....just about anything fried.
• Curry
• Fish
• Curry

If you frequently, occassionally, or even once cook foods with the above ingredients here's a tip: Invest in a bottle of Febreeze.

If not for us, the sales associates, then for everyone else who has to smell you.

We don't want your stank all over the rest of our clothes.

Please, refrain from contaminating the rest of the merchandise. Take a shower.

Thank you for shopping with us today.

Inventory

BLOWS





[More to come later]

Pigs

Shoppers, as a whole, are pigs. They really are. It's fascinating how quickly a single shopper can completely terrorize a table of innocent, folded sweaters. What did they ever do to you? Furthermore, what did the sales associate ever do to you to warrant having to do a menial task not once, not twice, but over a dozen times in a twenty-minute time period?

At risk of sounding sexist I have to call out the piggiest of piggy shoppers. They are, hands down, women. I mean, seriously, girls. I'm ashamed to count myself as one of you, when shopping is concerned. My workplace is not the venue to take out your domestic frustrations. When you take something off the hanger, would it kill you to put it back on? When you unfold something--which you will do--have the decency to give it to a sales associate. It's bad enough to see a previously perfect pile of shirts look like it was hit by a bomb; please don't just throw it anywhere. It's really not that difficult to put whatever it was you were pawing back on the table in front of you.

(By the way, it is NOT necessary to unfold and touch everything you are thinking of buying. A large is a large. A small is a small. A medium is somewhere in between, etc. If you don't know the size of the person you're shopping for.....ask. What a novel idea. Granted, sizes vary from designer to designer, but within the designer, the sizing will be the same. I promise. Please, trust me. I work with these clothes every day. There's a reason we try to mask a look of horror when we see you approaching neatly folded items.....it's called the Soccer Mom Swing. You pick it up gently, as if you're going to leave it alone. Then comes the inevitable squint towards the size label, you set it down, grab the shoulders and swing there goes the fabric, unfolded in all its uniformly sized glory. Of course, it won't be what you're expecting, so you put it down.)

If you're any kind of smart, you place the beseiged item back on the table from which you dug. This is where our frustrations turn into personal irritation. You're not content with fumbling it into whatever fold you think is acceptable. There's a part of you that realizes what you've done, and you feel guilt. It's so slight, you probably don't even know you're feeling it. But we see it. We see it in the oddly laying piles, the not-quite-even stacks. This behavior is so curious to me that the only explanation I have is that you're somehow ashamed of the way you shop(which you should be). When we spot you converging on our folds, we get nervous and try to rush over. If we're too late and you've moved on, we now have to spot what you've disturbed and fix it.

Yes, we have to try to spot it. For whatever reason, you seem to think that hiding the malfolded sweater will make everything better. If you've disturbed a piece of pristine merchandise, you seem to think that shoving the offending piece in the middle or underneath the pile will atone for your transgression. Not even in the slightest. Now, not only have you unfolded one item, but you've successfully disturbed every other item in the stack. Instead of one shirt to fold, you have now, thoughtfully, given us seven. Thanks.

Now, I have the blessing of working in the men's department. I don't have to deal with women on as regular basis as just about anyone else in any other department. I have worked in a women's store, however, and I can attest to the astonishing laziness of most women shoppers.

I've discussed the frustration of folded items. Now I'll move on to hangers.

Three words, ladies: hang it up.

Seems simple, right? That task is the messiest and easiest to do, but it's also the one you do least often. To be completely honest, when you traipse through a rack and we trail behind to clean it up, it looks to us like you've just pulled every piece of merchandise you can get your piggy hands on. If something falls on the floor, instead of bending down to pick it up, you kick it out of your way. You roll your cart or stroller over it. You let the dust bunnies have it. You essentially ruin a piece of merchandise because you were too lazy and\or ignorant to pick it up.

(To those who mutter "That's not my job"......after the dirtest look I can muster I simply proclaim "It's not mine, either." Clean it up, Miss Piggy. I'm not a maid.)

I make a regular practice of piling up as many unfolded pieces as I can and place the mountain of clothes in the customers' sight. When they exclaim at the work I have to do, I simply smile. Look what you've done, Piggy.

Women are, by far, the messiest, laziest, most selfish shoppers. Your handbags are too big, your wallets are too full, your habits are disgusting. We already resent you for the mess you've left us to clean up. Do not, I repeat, do not treat us like we're scum.

I don't care about how much money you make, or how frequently you shop. Be nice.

Thank you for shopping with us today :-)

Getting Started

Hello, World.

A friend suggested I create a blog in order to detail the repetitive annoyances of working in retail. Thus, it is created.

I thought about how I would start this thing, and even wondered if I should start with a horror story of some kind. Eventually, I decided against it. There will be enough of those to come. I settled on an explanation.

What I want to do for the readers of this blog is to make y'all aware of how strikingly ignorant the general population is. I'm not talking about racism, sexism, or bigotry(although those are rampant as well), I'm talking about the simple, logical problems our country is--as a general whole--completely incapable of solving.

Like how to fold a shirt.

The focus of this is to vent about my adventures as a customer servant. I work in retail. I work in a pretty prominent department store. Comparatively, I don't have too much experience, but I've worked in retail for a few years and I feel I have the right to tell you, dear shopper, what exactly you're doing wrong.

And you do quite a few things wrong.

I smile, I work my magic at the register, I bite my tongue, I go the extra mile for you. I listen to you vent, I wait for you to find your coupons, I cater to your every whim insomuch as I am able. I am not allowed to say no to you, technically, and I'm praying you never remember that fact. I tell you I understand when I could care less, I nod sympathetically, I laugh to make you feel better. I'm honest as far as the merchandise allows. I take a lot of grief from you, and never bite back. I make you feel like I know you, even though I probably don't remember you. I treat you with courtesy and respect, as long as you treat me with the same. I try to remain as professional as possible.

( Let me just say, that stupid, placating smile is hard to maintain when you're being an ignorant, corrosive, obnoxious s.o.b.)

And so it is begun. Prepare yourself. Shoppers are pretty stupid.

(Yes, you have been stupid at one point or another. My goal is to try to keep you from making it a habit)

Here we go.

Thank you for shopping with us, today. We hope to see you soon :-)