Monday, August 6, 2012

Rollercoaster of Love (Say What?!)

Another hectic Monday at work. I work in retail sales in a busy store. I can't tell you which one now because we had to sign an agreement recently saying what we couldn't do on 'social media' regarding our employer which was basically write about it or write about our coworkers, customers or experiences. blah, blah, blah..lead to termination. I just signed it but really felt it was a violation of my rights outside of that place. I should be able to write about anything I darn well please as far as I'm concerned.
So without naming the big blue and yellow box retailer I'm free to tell you that retail can be hell. I think in many ways I actually love it though even more than I hate it. I love the hustle bustle, the fast pace. I love the constant flow of real Brooklynites. I love the way you can get in your physical work-out and stay active. There is no sitting at a desk and snacking while staring at a computer screen all day in this gig. No, they get their money's worth out of you here. They march your little butt down to the warehouse first thing in the morning to stock product and that includes pushing pallet jacks and loading tons of cardboard into a giant compactor while men (and women) are rushing by on forklifts. It's hectic and keeps you alert, just like the ride in to work with the bus and truck drivers testing my reaction skills on the bike.
Afterwards, I have 10 minutes to race back upstairs, try to look presentable and get back to the showroom to sell kitchen cabinets.
Customers are also in a big hurry, racing in to be the first in line. Sometimes literally racing each other through the shortcuts, no lie. And then actually fighting about who was first when they get there. Insane. New Yorkers are impatient at birth and want and expect more than they ever deserve. They're living in an impossible rat race of deadlines and criss-crossing of itineraries. Its so wonder that anything actually ends successfully here. They stomp their feet and yell and demand and threaten to get their way. The week sort of builds to an escalated stress level with the grand finale being Sunday, the worst and best of all days for me. This day the crowds quadruple, they bring their crying babies and ill-temperaments, their weekend angst. Its a scene right out of Night of the living dead. Mindlessly walking through the maze with that blank stare. What brought them here and not the beach? What makes them come here so dreadful and angry? A nightstand? A microwave cart?
Mondays are like the beginning of the line at the roller coaster. Everyone starts fresh. It's a new day! We all board the ride again. There's the number 186 brown church bus that seems hell-bent on making me roadkill. Here is the left turn that cars cut me off without a care in order to 'make the light'. Here's the first customer of the day who is angry but she's made it. She's the first one and that is an accomplishment to her and now she can feel free to unload her little folder of crumpled receipts and discontent on me. Thus commencing the next week of retail hell. Monday.
Monday night however lent sweet delicious melon, a very satisfying wild rice with broccoli and a sturdy fried pork chop.

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