Honest Conversation Is Overrated
Actual Human Interactions Witnessed Or Overheard
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
Shortly after we moved in 2020, Comrade and I decided to buy a couch. But the Pandemic was reigning hell on the supply chain even then, and we weren't able to order one that we liked until February. It took about two weeks to arrive, was exactly the style Comrade wanted but it was hella uncomfortable. We gave it nearly a month where neither of us ever really used it for more than a few minutes at a time, and then we returned it.
It wasn't too long after that that I became weary of Granny Entitlement, and didn't want to buy a couch and then immediately have to move. So we haven't had a couch. We have a dozenish semi-comfy chairs from Comrade's parents, one comfy chair that we moved from JP, and some matchy furniture that we don't love, but no couch. On Friday, we decided to go to Jordan's Furniture. We figured we'd find a cool couch, be told it was no longer available, and after three or four "What about this ones?", we'd finally settle on one that would arrive in March. That's just the way thing are right now. So we grabbed a Lyft, and arrived at a store that Comrade informed me was the place he used to go to hang out when he was bored growing up. If you ever want to feel popular and antagonized, just be a gay couple trying to buy a couch in a nearly empty warehouse-sized store. I think there were three other couples spread out amongst the building, and we were all outnumbered at least 5-1 by bored staff members. Employee #1 greeted us at the door, asked what we needed and if they could help, and we politely told them we were looking for a couch, and possibly other furniture, but wouldn't need any help for quite a while. The couches in the front room were terrible, so we started a counter-clockwise circuit which Comrade immediately suspected was wrong. "Should we ask where the couch room is?" he asked, as we walked into a room with thirty couches. "Nevermind." My goal for a new couch is: comfortable and grey (because Selina and Goose are going to shed all over it). Comrade has style needs, and an idea of what else to get to create a room around the couch. So we satdown on the first couch in the room, just in time for Employee #2 to welcome us, and ask if we needed any help, and to let them know if we had any questions. We politely told them we were looking for a couch, and possibly other furniture, but wouldn't need any help for quite a while. The couch was great. Firm on the back, soft on the butt, not too deep. Also, comfy and grey with the legs that Comrade approves of. We hit every other couch in the room and none of them was quite as good. "Should we ask if this is the only couch room?" Comrade asked. ""I thought you hung out here all the time. Surely there are other couches." "That was forever ago. Also, it's much different now. This place used to be Mardi Gras themed, and had a musical interlude every hour. Plus there was a Kelly's Roast Beef with an aquarium globe in it. I wonder what happened to the fish?" There were many more couches. There were many more "Can I help yous." Some were concise and to the point. One guy, though, saw us sitting on a couch that seemed to be made entirely out of springs and thumbtacks, and said "Great couch, right? It's made of Sunbrella." He said this, standing under a GIGANTIC Sunbrella sign. "Everything in this room is made of Sunbrella." "Thanks." I said. "You can get that couch in any of the Sunbrella colors available over there on the Sunbrella fabric wall." And I think he said Sunbrella fifty-leven more times before letting us know that he was happy to help us if we had any questions. We didn't give him our rote polite response, we just fake smiled and nodded. "That guy is The Worst." Comrade said. There was a leather couch room (no can do with they tiny grey terrors), a These Couches Were Designed By Contestants Eliminated During The First Episodes Of Various Project Runway Seasons room, an abstract art for people with broken spines room, a Millionaire's Lounge with sleek black couches and expensive looking art, a room of Tilt sofas that recline at the press of a button and have their own cupholders built in, and a couple of rooms of random sofa assortments. There was also a "sleep laboratory" but I knew if Comrade went in, I'd never see him again. There was a terrible table designed to look like an early 20th century car, where the two square feet of table was supported by six or seven feet of car. There was also a weird little cubby chair that looked hideous and uncomfortable. While Comrade was demonstrating how the wooden back brace pushed directly into your spine if you tried to sit back, Employee #72 told us how cute it was, and how easy it was to maintain before realizing that the brace was supposed to be covered by a piece that had fallen underneath. We left her still struggling to figure out how to put the "easy to maintain" chair back together. Eventually, we had completed the full circuit, and decided that the very first chair we'd tried out was the one we would first try to get. Nearly every employee had mentioned the Supply Chain, and that they hardly had anything in stock, and we should pick out a bunch of alternates. We already knew this, and it was a little disheartening to realize we probably wouldn't get a couch until March or April. "Yea, I'm sorry." said Employee #80-something, "I'll check and see if they have this in the warehouse, but we really don't have much right n---Oh. We have it. And in that color. That's a nice surprise. I never get to give people good news anymore. Unfortunately, because of Christmas and The Supply Chain, we don't really have many delivery appointments available. Unless you could do next Thursday." "I have next Thursday off." "And where do you live?" I gave him the info. "It says here we've made a delivery there before, so that's good. But I guess we had to take out a window because of the narrow stairs." "We live on the first floor. This will definitely fit." "Then, congratulations. You will have a new couch next week."
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While walking by an outdoor coffeehouse seating area today, I heard a woman dressed in a puffy coat and thick pants (it was in the 60s today) say "Well, it's just impossible to find anyone to work these days. Everyone's so entitled. I just can't find anyone willing to work for me."
And I couldn't help but say "You're probably not paying enough or providing benefits." as I walked by. I didn't linger to take the brunt of her reaction. Long time friends and readers know that one of my Major Retail Peeves is when something won't scan or isn't in the computer/register, and the customer says "If it's not in the computer, it must be free. Hahahahaha."
The other night, I had to run some errands at Ye Olde Targette, and saw this welcome mat. I was buying a ton of new home things, and I liked this more colorful than just brown or black but not as audacious as flamingos or neon mat. As I took it out of the carriage to pay for it, I noticed, and said out loud, "There's no price or bar code on this." The cashier stared at me. "I don't really need it. Is there somewhere I could leave this welcome mat that isn't going to be a pain for you." He looked down at his register. "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't see a welcome mat." Then he made eye contact again and shrugged. So ... there wasn't a bar code. And it did end up being free. You're still not ever allowed to say that shit to anyone in retail. My Favorite Customer Of The Day So Far: "How much is this I Am Harriet Tubman book?"
Me: "$14.99" MFCotDSF: "That's perfect. I have a friend. Well, I don't know if he's my friend anymore, but he's Black." (As is MFCotDSF, or else he would not be MFCotDSF), "We were talking about history, and he straight up started telling me about Harriet Toobmin. And I was like, Who? And he said it again, Harriet Toobmin. And I can't have that. You learn about Harriet in grade school. There was a movie about her, like two years ago. So I'm going to give him this book for five year olds so that dumb motherfucker can educate himself at an appropriate level." So far, the Venn Diagram for people who don't want to wear masks in the shop, and the people who can't read the sign with the giant arrow letting them know the entrance to the store is down the hall, is a complete circle.
Kid Who Just Started Collecting Pokemon Cards: "Do you have any John Lennon cards?"
Me: "Um. No?" Kid's Friend Who Knows More About Pokemon: "I think he means Charmeleon cards." Me: "Huh. That's definitely a maybe." Working in collectible retail means you field a lot phone calls from people looking to sell collections of various things tangentially related to what your store actually sells, or Not At All related to what your store sells.
For the most part, people try and unload baseball cards, Beanie Babies, DVDs, video games, or National Geographic magazines. Today, someone Actually called the store, trying to sell a collection of pogs. Wannabe Pog Seller: "Do you know of anywhere that might be interested in taking them?" Me: "No. I took a collection of pogs to the dump once, and the employees tracked me down at my house and made me take them back." Things at the store have been pretty chill for a while. Busy, but not stressfully busy. And it had been a long time since there was an in-store customer worth writing about.
It's still been a while since there was an in-store Customer worth talking about. But Thursday brought back a Hell I Have Not Fully Experienced since my days working at The Coolidge Corner NEC: double-digit aged children whose parents have never had the human decency to say No to them. A perfectly nice dad and his perfectly reasonable kids were in the store. His kids were probably three and five. The older one was enamored of The Simpsons and asked his dad if they could watch it when they got home. The younger kid was barely keeping it together Not Touching any of the plushies that he so desperately wanted. They were just kids being kids. Then THEY came in. An eleven or twelve year old boy and his ten or eleven year old sister. No parents in site. They had been knocking on the front windows for a minute before they just dropped their bikes in the middle of the sidewalk in front of the store, and strolled in. Whatever, they're just kids. The girl walks over to the YA section (cool), picks up a YA Catwoman book, and starts looking around. Before the pandemic, there were chairs in the YA section. We kept them around a display table, and parents and kids could sit down and read together and talk. And we, the employees, would occasionally have meetings there. Since the pandemic, we hide the chairs under some displays because we can't really have people spending an hour reading when we can only have about ten people in the store at a time. We, Especially can't have two grubby little germ factories who keep pulling their masks down below their noses, sitting in the store spraying Covid everywhere. The girl sees the chairs under the displays, pulls one out and plops down on it. Because there didn't seem to be an imminent influx of customers, I decided to let it slide. Kids will be kids. The brother kept wandering around knocking things over. Not on purpose. He's just at The Age Of Klutz. It's fine. After I sell a few kid books to the dad of Two Perfectly Normal Kids, they walk out of the store, and I start working on a reorder. 12 Year Old: "Can I see the Captain America shield?" There is, behind the counter, an expensive Captain America shield replica hanging by our wall books. I have never taken it down before, nor seen it taken it down. But I notice it has a couple of smudges on it, and figure, Kids Are Kids, I'll just let this kid hold the shield for a few minutes, and then I'll be able to sanitize it, and get rid of some of the marks before putting it back. Fine. 12YO: "What's the scale on this?" Me: "I have no idea. It's just a replica prop." 12YO: "But is it to scale?" Me: "I have no idea." 12YO: "Can you look it up?" Kids will be kids. Me: "Nope. Their website is down." This is a lie. 12YO: "Oh." The kid wanders around for a few minutes, shows his sister the shield and then brings it back to me, and I start to Windex it before giving it a once over with some Sanitizer. 12YO: "Can I try on the Boba Fett helmet?" There is a $350 Boba Fett helmet behind the counter. It is not for sale. Me: "Sorry. It's up there permanently. We can't really take it down." 12YO: "What if I buy it?" Me: "Well, it sells for about $400, but ours is not for sale." 12YO: "That's too expensive." I shrug. 12YO: "What about that Mandalorian helmet?" Me: "That one is for sale. But it's also about $400." 12YO: "Can I try it on?" Me: "Nope." 12YO: "Why not?" Me: "Because of Covid, we're not allowed to let people try on helmets." This is sort of a lie, but it also should be true. So it's now true. 12YO: "Oh. But I don't have Covid." Me: "Good. I still can't let you try it on." He wanders away to go knock some more things off of shelves and then put them back in the wrong places. While he's wandering, the dad with normal kids comes back, without his kids, to buy a set of books he'd been considering. It's a big sale, so I'm happy to see him return, and begin talking to him about how much I enjoy the series (East Of West by Jonathan Hickman). 12YO: "Excuse me?" Dadguy: "Yes?" 12YO: "Could I borrow $400? I want to buy the Mandalorian helmet." Dadguy, laughing: "Me, too. But it's out of my price range. Sorry." 12YO: "My dad will pay you back. We have the money." Dadguy: "Sorry, pal. Not today." 12YO walks back to where his sister is, and sits on the floor to pout. Dadguy buys his books, says goodbye to everyone, laughs again, and leaves. 12YO: "Let's go. I don't want to be here anymore." 10YO: "Ok. Sir?" Me: "Yes." 10YO: "Can I take this book with me? I'm not finished with it yet?" Me: "No. Sorry. We're not a library, we're a store. You'd have to buy it." 10YO: "But I"m not done with it." I shrug. "We don't let people borrow books. Sorry." 12YO: "Our dad will pay for it next time we come in. He has money." Me: "Sorry. You have to pay for the books before you take them. That's how stores work." 10YO: "Why?" I shrug. "Capitalism." 12YO: "Adults always say that." Then the 10YO put the book back (in way the wrong place), and the two of them went outside to their miraculously unstolen bikes and rode off to, no doubt, annoy someone else who works in retail. Random Pokemon Scalper: Do you guys have any Elite Trainer Boxes.
Me: Nope. Sorry. We sold out of them already. RPS: Aw, man. I waited for a half an hour outside your other store for the girl to show up, and she only had two blue, and I need a blue and a red. Me: That's not us. We don't have another store. RPS: Huh. Oh! I saw your dad the other day. Me: I don't think so. RPS: Sure, I stopped in and your dad was working there. Me: Nobody's dad works here. I think you've got the wrong store. RPS: I talked with the older guy. Me: I don't know who that is. We go as old as mid-40s here. RPS: But your kids work there, right? Me: Nope. No kids. I don't know who you talked to. RPS: Huh. So you don't have any extra Elite Trainer Boxes for me in the back? Me: I don't know who you are, so ... no. Sorry. RPS: Ok. Bye Curtis. Me: Bye Stiffany. It doesn't just happen to me. This is from a former coworker circa 2012:
Please note this wasn't a Comic Book Person being weird, this is just a weirdo who comes into a comic book store and is aggressively baffing to a specialty retail employee: I Swear I wish I was making this sh*t up... Rando: "Do you have Baaahhbeezze? I need a weddin days Baaahhbeeze." Me: "Sorry, we don't carry Barbie Dolls" Rando: "You got supthin against Baaahhbeezze?" Me: "Nope, we just don't carry them here. We are a comic book store." Rando: "My daughtah needs Wedding Day Baaahhbeeze" Me: "Sorry, you might try Target or Toy's R Us." Rando:"Ugh, Do I look like a Communist?" Me: "I'm sorry?" Rando: "Never mind... You think Booksmith has Bahhbeeeze?" Me: "Probably not they are a..." He turns around and walks out the door as I speak. I am going to start carrying a flask to work I think... |
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