My posting has become far too sparse since writing stopped being one of my jobs and all those wonderful hours spent blissfully typing away in my office have been redistributed to teaching children to draw and wishing adults could learn some manners. I will try to get back in the swing! For now, a parable.
Last night at the Banana, smack in the middle of a bout of laziness that had the manager Mike, myself, and a clocked-out Rachel all chatting at the register, some local miscreants wandered in and swiped a cool grand in shirts. Later that night, about 9:20 pm to be precise, a customer from earlier returned complaining that the damage discount she swindled out of me didn’t combine with the coupon she had; her final sale item could not be returned, so the whole purchase had to be voided and re-sold, then many clever tricks employed to make all the discounts combine. Time ticked away, her children cried, Mike positively vibrated with fury, I nearly cried, and another employee named John had to be told not to stand over my shoulder. (“Do you just have a thing about not liking people watching you over your shoulder?” Is that a fucking joke? Or are you not a human?)
Needless to say, it was a rough night. I drank my troubles away with Escondido’s $2 margaritas and bemoaned all my woe-is-me’s to a good friend. My ennui evaporated with the hangover, but I was left with overwhelming dread for what I knew was an inevitable lecture. Add to this that I had already that week submitted 3 applications for manager jobs before telling my manager (assuming that by submitting it would force me to actually speak with him, an odious task I assure you) that he was then cc’d on. He was quoted as having snipped to another manager, “What did she think? I wouldn’t find out?” How stupid do I look? I listed him as a reference; of course it wasn’t a secret. But I was in a tight spot and looked like an asshole. I had so many talking-to’s coming to me.
I stomped in tonight in a huff and began Hurricane Kristi, which paradoxically involves a frenzy of cleaning. All night I was just waiting: Please, just yell at me already and get it over with! FINALLY a few hours in, the boss-man crept up on me fixing shirts on a stepstool that I nearly fell off of. In a shocking display, he not only wholly omitted the topic of the previous night’s shoplifting incident, but offered support and encouragement regarding my advancement in the company, assuring me we would talk next week. Then he smiled and left me.
This just goes to show you: Sometimes people surprise you, and shake the worldview that has taught you to think the worst of them. Everyone overreacts.
Try not to sweat it all, and when you do, Dr. Kristi recommends two margaritas and bed-rest. (It doesn’t hurt to watch Titanic and cry it out.)