So, I sell books and stuff!07:43 Oct 30 2013
Times Read: 341
Its been a while since I wrote anything! So hi!
I guess I owe an update, considering the completely shocking and awe-inspiring cliff hanger I left last time! I know you're all just waiting on pins and needles to hear whats up!
(Hush, you.)
So I went for the interview for that job I had wanted. Normal interview stuff up until the manager grabbed a slip of paper out of a jar. It had a number on it. A rather long meaningless number. "I want you to play these numbers on the lottery, and if you win, give me half."
I did so, but I didn't win. I never have luck with gambling. I had a scratch card problem once, but kicked it pretty fast when I realized I was becoming more broke than I had begun with.
"Also, thats an ISBN number. Have you ever used one of our kiosks?" I hadn't. I found products the old fashioned way. I used logic and common sense to locate them.
"Well, this number is on one of the books in our store. Find it, learn its story, and bring it back to me. Tell me what its about, who you would recommend it to, and what you would pair it with." Not too hard, so I look it up.
'Gettin Rowdy' by Lori Foster. Yep. I was sent to the romance aisle. -sigh- Okay. I can do this. So I bring it back, tell the brief story (Alpha male bar owner, new bartender doesnt like him, so he wants her more. Murderous secret behind it all. Blegh), recommend it for women of course, and pair it with another tasteless book by the same author.
I got the job, at any rate. Yay minimum wage! But money is money, right? RIGHT? I actually love working there. I know, its my second (official, more on that in a sec) shift only so far, but I enjoy the people I work with at least.
So the first shift was just training and orientation. The usual stuff. "This goes here, that goes there, don't kick the customers." That sort of thing. Then they schedule me for an (unofficial) overnight shift. 9pm-5am.
Now, up until Sunday just passed, I assumed that when you left a store at night near christmas, little elves switched the decorations, put up the trees, and changed the placement of things.
ITS NOT ELVES. OH GOD HOW IT ISNT ELVES.
Eight hours going up and down a ladder, lifting boxes that weren't really solid enough to hold what they did, swallowing dust, getting blisters (Gonna check - yep. Its still there on my foot. Drained it twice. Enjoy that image.), setting up trees, etc.
I was so sore the next day. I hated myself for it. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. In fact, I am. This thursday and friday, 5am-9am before the store opens. Insane? Perhaps.
So today was my second official shift. More training, some roleplaying excercises (unfortunately not the kind with D20's or Displacer Beasts), and some real on the sales floor experience.
So, we take turns helping a customer, while the rest watch. Everyone seems to get relatively decent customers. One was a little bit impatient because they had an appointment to make, but whatever.
Then comes my turn. My time to shine. Please let me get an easy customer, pleeease- Hah. Nope.
I get the schizophrenic, germaphobic lady wearing surgical gloves. Well, thats fine. Maybe I can out talk her and make her feel a little more comfortable? Nope. This woman had a -physics degree-.
Can we just take a moment to appreciate that? This woman deals with schizophrenia. She explained as much, after a few moments of awkward ice breaker conversation. She's also terrified that she is going to get like, sick and die from germs. Thus the gloves. Yet this woman -completed a god damned physics degree-.
I know you'll never read this, but major kudos to you, Monica. She was a very pleasant woman, actually. Turns out she has a british education, so they haven't really recognized her for much here. So, I didn't get to sell her anything, because she was just browsing. But I saw her again later in the store, and she remembered who I was and smiled and waved. The manager noticed. Apparently its one of our best customers, and she comes in every two days or so. I was proud I made that connection, and actually humbled by her ability to persevere through stuff.
I'm no stranger to mental conditions, mind you. I suffered with (and still do, in times of stress or heightened emotion), Tourettes Syndrome. I also dealt with major anger issues as a child, and suicidal tendencies that landed me in the hospital more times than I can count. (Though of those times I distinctly remember two, which I will reminisce about at a later date.) My better half has dealt with things in a similar category, and I have a very solid feeling that if we have kids instead of adopt, the gene pool they are getting will force them to deal with something.
Its just a fact. My wife and I have talked about it. I just hope they can get through as much shit as Monica has- Wow. I just noticed something. I called my better half my wife. I don't know what to say to that. It kind of slipped out. You know what though? I'm not gonna edit it. Let it be there for all to see. We've been through hell to get this far, after all.
At any rate, I helped a few other folks, and ended the day with scheduling more shifts. Theres the two early shifts mentioned, and then three of them next week. It feels good to be working again.
I used to be a major introvert. I still am, most of the time. College kicked a lot of that out of me, and so did getting to a point where I realized nothing I actually do here can bother me. Its all leading up to better things, far away. But today I noticed something.
When I'm on the floor, with a real person? When I am exchanging not a purchase, but an experience? I feel like I could take on a lot. I'm not a sales rep. This isn't a purchase. This is an experience, a connection between two (or more, in the case of a family that came in) human beings. They don't leave with books, or blankets, or candy. (Or the million other products we sell. Seriously, Indigo, that shit is hard to keep up with.) They leave with a story, a memory, and a new friend.
I am (Seasonal) Customer Experience Representative. Hear me roar.
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