Stories from Work: The Weirdest Saturday Ever

I used to post all the time about the crazy things that happen to me at work, but, for some reason, I got out of the habit of doing that. After this weekend, though, I decided to pick it back up, because I just have too many good stories for me not to tell.

So, without further ado, here’s the latest update on my life at work. Warning: It’s pretty odd.

 Not gonna lie: Today and Friday weren’t bad. Other than losing power to the registers in the last 10 minutes of my shift this afternoon and having to retell the Kamasutra shirt incident (which I’ll explain another time) right as I started on Friday, nothing too out of the blue happened. Saturday, however, everything off the wall hit me all at once, and it made for one heck of a shift.

I started my day at 11 am. The store wasn’t busy, and two of my managers were out on the floor with me. A customer came up to the register, so I hopped on and rang her out. She was a super nice lady, and she made me feel like my day was gonna be great. Immediately after her, I began some other dude’s transaction, in the middle of which his friend came over.

As the man approached us, he was talking. At first, I thought he was speaking to his friend whom I was ringing out, but a second or two later, I realized he was actually talking to me. He was saying something along the lines of, and I quote:

“You know, before you tucked your hair behind your ears there, I was thinking to myself, ‘Whoa! Is that the character from the Addams Family?'”

I was in the middle of taking a sensor off a shirt and almost stabbed a hole in my finger when I heard the words come out of his mouth. I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him.

Cousin Itt. He literally called me Cousin Itt, as casual as if he’d asked the time.

Since I was on duty, I had to hide my obvious horror at the remark he just made. So I cracked a smile and played along, laughing at the stupid joke as he continued to tell me how my hair was so nice, but it just covered my face like a curtain when I leaned forward.

I didn’t think it was possible to want to strangle someone more than that. Then he told me my freckles were super pretty, and I realized it was.

Second customer of my day, but most epic fail of picking up a chick I had ever experienced in my life.

Cousin Itt. Come on.

Moving forward, yesterday, I was apparently everyone’s favorite personal shopper. From helping a guy find shirts with pockets to helping a woman pick out her new bathing suit to finding cardigans for I don’t even know how many mothers, every needy customer in the universe walked into our store and targeted me. Yes, me. It’s like they had radar or something. Ugh.

Well, the worst of them all was by far one woman whom I encountered thanks to walking in the fitting room at the wrong time. She began our journey by making me fetch her about ten different garments in all different sizes: down to a four, up to an eight, down to a two, up to a six, up to a ten. Being the good employee that I am, I went and got them, even despite the extreme bother that it was.

When I returned with all the sizes she needed (er, at least the ones we had in stock), she asked for my name. Being a totally normal question despite the fact that I had a nametag, I gave it to her, and we carried on our way for about 30 minutes. Then, once those 30 minutes were up, she snuck behind me and whispered in my ear, “Leah, do you work on commission?”

First of all, thanks for the heart attack. Second of all, creepy. Don’t ever do that to anyone ever again. Third of all, no, I don’t work on commission. Why the fudge do you care?

Anyway, I told her that I didn’t, and she started acting all happy and asked if I could help her find a few more things. I thought, okay, I guess I can point out a couple of the items she’s looking for. No big deal. I do that all the time. So I said sure.

Worst mistake of my life.

I must have spent an hour with her, being forced to give fashion advice and pick out this necklace and that sweater and those shoes and that belt to go with everything she had just tried on. My staff was ridiculing me for it, because apparently it was absolutely hilarious.

Well, she ended up having a pretty sad story — she was just starting to date again, and both of her daughters had just moved out. So she was lonely, and that instantly made me feel bad and not ask her to let me get back to my real work. She also ended up spending almost $500 on her new dating clothes, so all right. I could let it slide.

Afterward, however, she sought out my manager to tell her how happy she was with the job I did. Now, this may seem really nice, but with the staff at my store, this is actually one of the worst things that can happen. We all take pride in our work, but we’re like brothers and sisters and thus rip on each other for every little thing that occurs — out of love, of course. So as soon as that lady left, my manager walked by and gave me a big, “Neeeeeeeeerrrrrdddd.”

Yes, I know, Allie. I’m a nerd. I can’t help it.

Well, moral of that story: It’s H&M, not Barneys. Learn how to shop, people.

Another fail at hitting on me this weekend: I was cleaning up the men’s jeans rack while a guy was standing right next to me browsing it. I could see him glancing at me here and there out of the corner of my eye, so I braced myself for the inevitable social interaction. A few seconds later, he finally got the guts to turn to me and say:

“Excuse me, where are your men’s jeans at?”

-_-

For real, dude? That’s the best you could come up with?

Almost as bad as the polo incident.

Now that I’m thinking about it, though, I think the jeans fail actually happened Friday, not Saturday. So my intro is now a lie. Oops. My bad.

Moving back to the weirdness of Saturday: It was also the first time ever since I’ve started working at my store where a group of all straight men were the only ones closing that night. Bizarre. And everything was a mess this morning because of it.

No sexism intended. It’s just the truth. Those dudes can’t clean.

Okay, so I know there were more weird incidents that happened on Saturday, but they were all super small and thus aren’t really worth mentioning. So I’m gonna end it here. Thanks so much for reading, and never work in retail. Never.

That is all. Talk to you again later.

 

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