The Woes of Retail

I have worked in retail since I was 17 years old. About 90% of the time, I really like working retail, which is good because I am going to pay off my I'm-going-to-poor-forever-because-I-have-a-totally-useless-but-still-cost-forty-grand-English Lit degree (coming in May!) some how. But there is that ten precent of the time that I hate it so much I want to curb stomp the next motherfucker who so much as looks at me. Before I tell you about why I hate retail sometimes, maybe it is better to explain why I like it.

Check out this truly unattractive picture of me. Working at my first retail job circa 2008.

So why do I like retail? Who likes working crappy hours for little pay? Who likes being treated like crap by customers and superiors? Well apparently I do. I like meeting new people. I like small talk. I like doing something different every day. I also like excuses to buy cute dresses.

 I have had three retail jobs in my short work history. First I worked at a chain store that sells new and used clothing. I was there from age 16 to 20. It was pretty sweet. I got to pick the music, do almost anything I wanted, and I got first dibs on all of the funky clothes and used Halloween costumes. 

Not even sure what is going here, but I know it was taken at work.

Next was probably the worst job I have ever had. I worked in the retail section of a well known family wild life themed restaurant. I have very few fond memories of working here.

After about a year, I left for my current job. I love my job (most days). I do not have to fold shirts, and all I do is help people look like rockstars. 

So anyway, here are some of the days in retail that made me want to rip my face off. 

So my first year at what I am going to call "Re-Wear", I found out one of the worst things about selling used clothing. Sure gross things happened once in a while, like finding dirty panties in pants pockets, a musty shirt, or the occasional unidentifiable white stain.... But nothing quite like this. 

We had this regular customer. He was a weird looking guy, a little older than our normal mall tween demographic. He would come into the store about once a week. He would do the same thing every time. 

First came the super awkward small talk:

Creepy guy: Heeeeey ladies. 

Us: Hi.

CG: (super long awkward pause) fitting rooms open?

Us: Yup.

Then at this point he would proceed to take about 15 pairs of used jeans into fitting rooms (Note, at this time we only sold women's jeans) He would spend maybe half an hour in there, but then never buy anything.  This went on for months till one day he came out after "trying" on his jeans. He walked up the counter and asked if we sold tights. We showed him the packaged ones, to which he explained that he wanted used ones. 

We told him that we only sold new. At this point he asks my co-worked if she would sell him her personal used tights. Now things were getting a little what the fuck at this point... I mean who asks someone to buy their used tights?

Now here is where things take a turn for the worst. As he is inquiring about buying some tights, we notice that he has something balled up in his hand. He keeps bring the item up near his face and smelling it. It is a light pink fabric....

It dawns on us one by one that this man is standing here talking to us and smelling used women's underwear... Meaning that all of those times he had spent alone in our dressing rooms with used women's pants he was smelling them and doing god knows what....

With that we poilelty asked him to leave.... but before he is out the door he asks just one last time about buying her tights, this time offering to pay for the tights and then paying here to wear them... Who does that. It's one thing if you are into smelling undies, if that is what gets you going good on you. However you hit level creepy as fuck when you are asking 16 year old girls to buy their used tights.


 I mean this is not Japan, we do not have vending machines here for that kind of thing....

Yes this is a used panty machine. Thanks Land of the Rising Sun

So the incident that inspired me to write this post happened at my current job about a month ago. I was working alone as I often do. I should note that it is actually in the description of my job to be in fashion and sexy. So when I go to work, I always wear make up and flattering and perhaps short dresses. 

Okay so clearly this is not me at work, but it is an outfit that I wear to work

So there I am hanging out, selling some sunglasses, pretty much just minding my own business. I had a guy come in and I greeted him like normally. 

Guy: Are you bisexual?

Me: Excuse me?

Guy: Bisexual, like do you fuck chicks? You look bisexual

Okay, first of all.... WHAT THE FUCK. Is this supposed be pick up line? If so it is pretty much the worst one ever. Also how does one look bisexual? But I am at work so I attempt to be polite. 

Me: Is there anything I can help you find?

Guy: Shades.

Me: Well we have those.

Guy: I like your piercings. How many do you have?

Me: Thanks, maybe ten? I am not sure. So what kind of glasses are you thinking about?

Guy: I am going to get something pierced tomorrow.

Me: That's cool.

Guy: I am thinking about getting my dick done. What do you think?

Me: Uhhh?

Guy: You look like you'd have your nipples done. Can I see?

Seriously? What is going through someone's mind that they think this is an appropriate way to talk to anyone? Also what kind of girl would these lines work on???? Hint the answer is not me.

Guy: How many dudes have you fucked?

Me: *jaw dropped can't not form words*

Guy: I have to piss, I will be right back.

Yup. Working in retail rocks. I can not wait for some more awesome adventures.