From Joe the Cigar Guy on Retail Hell Underground:
Hello all!
Joe the Cigar Guy here.
Can you stand another tale of Christmas madness?
Good, 'cause here we go.
In early November, I responded to a newspaper ad offering seasonal work at a major retailer whose name rhymes with "Gord and Raylor".
I went in for the grip 'n grin interview, underwent a concise indoctrination/ training program and received a name tag and work schedule.
Establishing and maintaining a good relationship with the Customer is paramount at "the Gord" and I was no slouch. Helping people pick out just the right article of clothing isn't always easy, but I've got a knack for it, if I do say so.
The old-timers warned me that things would get progressively crazier as Christmas approached and they weren't kidding!
You name it, we got it: the "deescount" hunters, the people who forgot to bring any form of payment, the phone customers who insisted you drop everything, the bands of youths who would walk in and out of the store several times while obviously looking for the surveillance cameras, and the just plain batshit crazy.
Add to that the "upbeat" Christmas carols on an endless loop, the blood-curdling screams of the kids being hauled onto Santa's lap, and the BWOOP-BWOOP-BWOOP of the loss-prevention alarm going off every 30 seconds and you've got a recipe for true dementia.
It all came to a head on Christmas Eve.
As folks here on the east coast know, we got a major snowstorm the weekend before Christmas and retailers were looking to make up for lost time. It was "all hands on deck" for the last great push of 2009.
Things began calmly enough at 7:00 AM. The early birds with their discount coupons in hand came in. Between then and noon, I think I must have re-folded the same sweaters, ties and pants about thirty times. People were generally pretty cool until about midday.
Then, apparently, the realization that Zero Hour was closing fast did away with all rational thought.
People carried MOUNDS of clothing into the fitting rooms and left them.
They tried to pull off the sensor tags in full view of everybody.
They tried to return merchandise from other stores.
They demanded discounts because "I KNOW THE MANAGER!"
But The Bitch Queen Of The Universe didn't grace me with her presence until fifteen minutes before closing!
By that time, my legs and back were SCREAMING in pain and I was literally cooking in my wool-blend suit. At that moment, I knew exactly how a convict whose sentence is almost up feels. I could HEAR every tick of my watch.
She lurched up to my register with SIX bags full of merchandise.
"Oh Merciful Father, please don't let those be returns", I silently prayed.
"D'you (hic) work here?", she asked.
The reek of cigarettes and gin coming off her made me gag.
"Yes ma'am."
(Oh shit, she's HAMMERED!)
"Well, I wanna buy all this stuff. And HURRY 'cause my (hic) husband's in th' car and he's ANGRY at me!"
(Angry? Just because you got shit-faced and waited until the last minute to buy Christmas gifts? No!)
"So, if I get BEAT UP tonight, it's all YOUR FAULT!"
(Don't push it, lady. Please don't push it.)
Every article of clothing she wanted had a sensor tag on it.
"What's taking so GODDAMN long? Are you (hic) RETARDED or something?"
"No ma'am."
"I want GIFT RECEIPTS with all that! Can you handle that or is it too (hic) HARD for 'ya?"
Just then, the PA system announced, "Attention Gord and Raylor Shoppers! It is now ten minutes to closing. Please bring all purchases to the nearest register. Thank you."
"OH SHIT!", screamed BQU. "I need to get something for the KIDS!"
(I don't know which shocked me more: the fact that somebody had actually and willingly had sex with her, or the fact that she had waited until now to think of her children.)
"Do you have TOYS here? Why am I asking YOU? You're like OLD and shit!"
Then, to anyone within earshot, "Does anybody in this whole COCKSUCKING place know if they sell TOYS?"
I told her that the children's section was fifty feet behind her.
"YOU are RUINING my children's CHRISTMAS! Are you HAPPY? Does that make you HAPPY?"
Then she started sobbing hysterically and threw EVERYTHING onto the floor.
"FUCK YOU! YOU PICK ALL THIS UP, WRAP IT AND DELIVER IT TO MY HOUSE BY MIDNIGHT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? MID-NIGHT! MY CHILDREN WILL BE WAITING!"
And she lurched away, only to return seconds later to retrieve her handbag.
"MID-NIGHT", she hissed.
That night, at my sister-in-law's annual party, I hugged my wife especially tight and whispered in her ear, "I love you forever."
She laughed. "What's that for?"
"Just because, Baby. Just because."
--Joe
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