Thursday, January 09, 2003

Sad stories from my experience in retail

I'm bored. Bored bored bored. Maybe I should start checking out chat rooms. I dunno what I want to be chatting about... manga, maybe? My existance is truly pathetic.

All I did today was fiddle around with my blog's template, adding links and quiz stuff; read more bootleg manga; and go help an old lady sort through stuff in her garage. But, hey, I got twenty-one bucks out of the deal for about three hours of work this week. Beats sitting around letting my checking account decrease. All I have in my account are paychecks from my last job lasting from June-Sept when I worked at Petco. I left cuz the boss didn't like me. Right after I left that whole televised "expose" of Petco's inhumane treatment of animals came out. I didn't stay awake for the ten o'clock news or whatever, but I heard that Petco was putting sick animals in refrigerators or something. Not true; they were put in little cages in a smelly, windowless back room. They weren't chilled; in fact it was downright tropical in there!

Of course, I was only a peon cashier, unworthy of being privy to the secrets of a country-wide corporation.

Nah, I'm exaggerating. I didn't see any really inhumane treatment of animals when I was there. The staff even refused killing the feeder mice quickly before squeamish people took the critters home for their pet snake. Some customers made a big issue out of it. Once, this guy bought a few rats to feed to his snake and he said that it would provide enterainment for him and his friends while they drank beer.

Retail sucks. People would try to pull the pettiest crap. At least twice I had to re-ring people who felt cheated out of, like, forty cents. They had to fill out return forms returning the little dog treat or whatever and hold up five other people in line waiting for a supervisor or manager to initial the transaction for a lousy forty cents. "Here's your four dimes, ma'am. Sorry that it took forty-five friggin' minutes for my manager to get himself out of the office just to illegibly scrawl his name on a slip of carbon paper getting coffee/soda/birdie doodoo all over my pen in the process.

"Have a lovely day and come back again, won't you? Bye now!"

Never voluntarily work in a store that has its own private soundtrack of cheesy music juxtaposed with company advertisements that plays, like, ten minutes before starting over again. Especially during Christmas. You learn all the ads by osmosis - and like songs, they never get out of your head. (I'm almost 19 and I still know my damn elementary school song. Why can't that part of my brain store something useful, like the multiplication tables or currency exchange rates for fast getaways to foreign contries?) "Still scraching your head over what to do about fleas? Here at Petco we have Advantage and Frontline. Petco: where the pets go... for flea and tick medication." I'd've given myself a home lobotomy if I actually remembered the correct words.

Ah, the joys of materialism. "I love the smell of commerce in the morning!" (Brodie~Mallrats)

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