IT FINALLY HAPPENED

I thought this day would never come. I thought I was doomed to be different from all of the other college students. To not know the joys of a normal college experience. But today, it happened. The day has finally come!

I am doing nothing.

Seriously. Nothing.

Tomorrow I don't have any classes, and then its Thanksgiving break. So I watched the latest episode of Glee on Hulu. Then I watched another glee clip. And another. And another. I'm not even picking the videos. Hulu is doing it for me. After I'm done doing that, I'll probably continue to dick around some more, maybe take a nap.

Holy shit this is AWESOME!

I Don't Like this Game

Most of the time, Facebook is awesome. It allows people to keep in touch, find long lost friends and family, and procrastinate on writing that Life History paper. However, Facebook can also be a strange, strange place.

For the last month or so, I have had a pretty severe creeper problem. About once a week, strange men whom I have never met (nor do we have any friends in common), manage to find my profile and send me messages. Usually the messages are of the following format:

1. Hey there!
2. I found you profile!
3. Random story that I don't care about!
4. You're pretty!

None of the messages have been threatening. Although, one guy asked me if live classical music excites me, and then told his cat was afraid of vacuum cleaners.

Weird.

Men - PLEASE have SOME kind of game when you're talking to the ladies. Women like it when you ask them normal things in person. They do not like it when you talk about your mom's Lhasa Apso over Facebook.

If this is any indicator of what my future dating life is going to be like, I'm pretty sure I can hear my vagina sealing itself shut.

Relationship Advice from Mom

When the subject of marriage comes up, most mothers tell their daughters to marry someone who loves them, treats them with respect, etc.

This is the advice my mother gave me:

"You can love a rich man just as easily as a poor one. So go for the money."

I never had a chance of turning out normal.

The Future Was Better in the 50's

This weekend is Fall Break for my school. During breaks, I typically opt to go home to Tulsa. It takes about 4 hours to go home, so I use these extended breaks to visit my family. My college town is relatively small, only about 30,000 people live there. Tulsa and the surround areas have a combined population of roughly 800,000. There are lots of things to do in Tulsa, like movies and shopping and museums and stuff, but Tulsa also has things that suck.

Like traffic.

My car has been making funny noises lately, so I figured I would have it looked at while I was at home. My father and I went to pick up my car from the shop this evening. The traffic was so terrible that it took 30 minutes to drive 6 miles. And that's when I started thinking...

What the hell happened to flying cars?

Remember all of those pamphlets and books about the future from the 1950s? They had some cool shit in them. Like time travel. And jet-packs. And flying cars. I distinctly remember the future was most definitely going to have flying cars in it.

Someone seriously dropped the ball on that one.

The Neverending Battle

Procrastination is a terrible, wonderful thing.

My Organic Chemistry assignment is supposed to be due tomorrow. However, we haven't quite covered all the material in class, so my professor pushed the assignment due dates back to Monday.

That was my only homework due tomorrow.

Also, fall break is Thursday and Friday.

So, I have 2 options:

1. Study now, get ahead in my classes, and not take any homework home over the weekend.
2. Dick around.

Oh what's a college student to do....

Howdy Stranger!

So I haven't posted in about a billion years. My apologies. I have 2 reasons to offer for my absence:

1) School started and I got SUPER busy
2) I forgot.

BUT to celebrate my victorious return (in case anyone still wants to read), here's some humor to brighten up your Monday.

Mostly, you'll just find out how much of a raging nerd I am.

You Know You're in Science when....

1) You purchase a planner based on whether or not it has a Periodic Table of Elements
2) You can't pronounce what you're studying (cytochrome oxidase modules of the dorsal ventral geniculate nucleus)
3) You attend a seminar titled "Molecular Humor"
4) You understand the jokes. And laugh at them.
5) You consider yourself tan when your skin darkens to the color of buttermilk
6) Other people get drunk and try to hook up with someone of the opposite (or same) sex. You get drunk and try to figure out the molecular structure of isopropyl alcohol.
7) You succeed.
8) Upon leaving the house, you've ever thought "I feel naked. Oh! I forgot my calculator!"
9) You've thought about bedazzling your lab goggles.
10) You're in class for 21 hours a week, but somehow only get 14 credit hours (fucking labs.)

Jailbait

ESU has a Student Recreation Center that is free for any student who wishes to use it. The cardio area has 4 - 5 TVs in it. I went running yesterday, and there was only one treadmill open: the one in front the ESPN TV. Sigh. So I take the treadmill while its open.

The sport that was playing today was baseball. The game that was playing managed to hold my attention, mostly because there were a lot of VERY attractive players. But something was a little odd about these baseball players. They all seemed kind of short.

Then I realized that I was watching the LLWS, or Little League World Series.

And all of the players are 12.

F.M.L.

You Wish You Were Me

You know what's classy?

Blacking out a party only to wake up on a couch with no hair extensions and without a shirt. You know what's even classier? Finding out that you puked into your own hair.

That's classy.

What's in a Name

Pilot Inspektor.

Kal-el.

Tayshawn.

What do these words have in common?

They're names. Yes, names. HIPSTER names.

Is it really necessary to take a giant steaming dump on the life of your child?

I think not.

And in case you're not sure what a hipster is or why they're dumb,

Some Inspiration

Live like you have a big black cock in your pants. Even if you don't.

It's the Last Dance?

As most of you know, school is starting up and my job at Pantyland has ended. Since my blog is titled RETAIL Makes Me Hate You (and I am no longer working in retail), technically, our journey should be over.

BUT! I discovered something.....

People actually read my blog.

So fear not good people, all is not lost. I shall continue to post stories. Albeit, they won't be based in retail, but the stories will still center around the stupidity of everyone else.

Like the manufacturers of my razors. What in the HELL do I need lavender-scented razor handles for?

I didn't mean to offend you

Most women have a preferred style of panty, which is understandable. Everyone finds different cuts of panty comfortable. But most women don't take offense when you show them a different style.

Customer: Do you have any brief-style underwear?
Me: We do! We have the high-leg brief on the cotton panty table.
Customer: But you said "high-leg."
Me: Yes ma'am, that's the kind of brief-style panty we sell.
Customer: Yeah, but I don't know if "high-leg" is going to work for me.
Me: Well, the next closest style we carry is the bikini-style panty. It's cut just...
Customer: Oh! Well! I am NOT all about that!!
Me: ............if you need anymore help, let me know!

You're picky and weird.

It's Science Part 2

Fact: Customers are attracted to anything that has been recently cleaned and/or organized. We find that the highest levels of attraction exist between the PUNK panty-bar and middle-schoolers.

Culture Shock

Today actually wasn't as bad as I was expecting, considering it's tax-free weekend. I worked the fitting room for the first half of today. No one was really rude. In fact Most of the customers were fairly reasonable, but one woman definitely stood out.

An elderly Asian woman came to the fitting room today looking for a strapless bra. I showed her a few options and gave her a fitting room. A few minutes after I put her in the fitting room, she cracked open the door and said that she couldn't get the straps back on. I offered to show her how to replace the straps and asked if I could come in to her fitting room. I opened the door, and she did NOT have a bra on.

Let me repeat this: SHE WAS NAKED

Most customers in this situation would have either: A) Kept a bra on and let me in the room or B) Asked me to wait a moment while they put a shirt on.

Not this customer. Nope. She's just naked. Hanging a boob. Or in this case, two of them.

I understand that in some cultures, nudity is fairly acceptable. But to me, it still came as a culture shock.

And So It Begins

Tax free weekend begins today. It lasts from Friday-Sunday. For those of you who don't know what that is, it means that for this weekend only, customers can shop retail and school supplies and won't have to pay the sales tax.

For the unfortunate individuals who work in retail, it's basically the Black Friday of Back-To-School.

UGH.

To those of you who are crazy enough to shop on these days, I plea this: BE NICE TO THE ASSOCIATES. We that it's very busy. We know that you waited in line for days. And we know that you're probably annoyed by these facts. But trust me, it is infinitely worse having to stand in one place for 6 hours, cashier, listen to you bitch at us, and still be nice to you. PLEASE be that one customer who understands that for the sales associates, this is a VERY long and VERY exhausting weekend. You don't even have to be nice, just be not an asshole.

Thank you.

Cheer Up

Everyone needs a bit of cheering up after a hard shift. This video always makes me laugh, no matter what!

You're Tacky and I Hate You

How To Act Classy at Pantyland

Classy: Dressing with taste and propriety.
NOT Classy: Wearing t-shirts that contain the following phrases: "I Can Out Drink You Bitches," "Size DOES Matter," or "Twin Peaks."

Classy: Storing your money in a wallet or other designated storage container.
NOT Classy: Pulling your money out of your bra soaked in boob sweat.

Classy: Asking what kinds of lingerie we sell.
NOT Classy: Asking where the crotchless panties are.

Classy: Describing the bra you're wearing so that I can assist you in finding it.
NOT Classy: Telling me that you want to find the bra you're wearing and then flashing me.

FO' FREE

I know I complain about my job at Pantyland quite a bit. But sometimes, it's worth putting up with "demanding" (read: bitchy) customers.

What could possibly make working at Pantyland tolerable?

One word: GRATIS.

Now, you may be wondering "What is gratis?" Well, the corporate sales team at Pantyland have an interesting method of educating employees on new products. They feel that if employees test the items and experience a new product for themselves, the employees will be able to sell the product better. How do they get us, the sales associates, to try out so many new products?

They give them to us. As gratis. FOR FREE.

So far this summer, Pantyland gratis-ed (verb?) their sales associates two free bras, valued at $90 and two free perfumes, valued around $40.

Did I mention I LOVE corporate?

Hand It Over

Pantyland gives out a fair amount of coupons. Usually, they pertain to free panties or $10 off a bra. These coupons aren't difficult to use, customers just have to present them at the cash register within the given dates. However, some women have difficulty figuring this out.

Customer comes to the register with her purchase. I ring up all of their items, put it in a bag with some pretty tissue paper, finish the credit card transaction, and hand over the receipt.

Customer looks over the receipt and asks "I thought one of those panties was supposed to be for free?"

I reply "Which panty are you talking about?"

"This one right here. I had a coupon for it."

In case anyone else doesn't understand how coupons work: I am not a psychic. I don't automatically know if you have a coupon. So in case you didn't know,
YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TO GIVE ME THE COUPON IN ORDER TO USE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Can Resist Everything But Temptation

Working in retail has its good and bad parts. The bad part is obvious: customers. But there are highlights. One good part is being able to see everything the store has in stock, so you can put anything you want on hold BEFORE it ever touches a sale rack. Another benefit is the awesome discounts. Did I mention that employees receive a 30% discount at Pantyland AND Bath and BodySmellGoodStuff? But with great reward comes great responsibility.

Fall semester is looming right around the corner. Which means back-to-school shopping. And you know exactly which adorable merchandise is in stock. Obviously, in order to get good grades, you NEED to have 2 new pairs of PUNK sweatpants, a gym bag, and a new body splash/lotion scent combo. DUH.

Besides, I can always look off of my partner's lab book.

And in any case, what do "Technology Fees" even pay for?

Victory!

The GAS has officially ended. Consequently, traffic to Pantyland has diminished considerably, especially during the morning and early afternoon hours.

Today, Pantyland was so slow that I finally achieved my goal of sampling every single fragrance in the store. I smell AWESOME. And by AWESOME, I mean I smell like a Week-Old-Hooker.

Now I need a new goal....

It's Science

Fact: Most of the "ladies" that shop at Pantyland are NOT, in fact, ladies. They be bitches.

From One Cashier to Another

I am a firm believer in treating minimum-wage workers with respect (Servers, cashiers, etc. The "help"). I've been there. I know that one bad customer can ruin your shift, and I know that one really nice person can brighten your whole day. I also know that the "help" will treat you as nicely as you treat them. Customers usually fall into one of two treatment patterns:

Customer comes up to the cash register. I say to them "Hi, how are you doing today?"

Type 1: Responds with "Fine." No attempt to further the conversation. I finish your transaction and put your things in your bag with standard tissue paper.

Type 2: Responds with "Good. How are you?" I respond with a "Good, thank you for asking!" I carefully fold your clothes, place them in the bag and give you extra tissue paper for extra prettiness.

In this scenario, being nice to the cashier didn't really have any advantages. BUT if you're nice to the help, they'll be nice to you. Case in point: Whole Foods.

I got off at Pantyland and went to Whole Foods to pick up some tempeh and veggie chicken. I also bought some impulse bulk granola. Toffee Almond. So good. Basket in tow, I headed to the checkout and got in line. The line I chose, just as an fyi, had a very cute checker. I got to the front of the line and he said

"Hi, how are you?"

I responded with a "I'm good, how are you doing today?"

"I'm good, thanks for asking."

While he was ringing up my groceries, I asked him how his shift was going. He told me it was ok, just a normal shift. I replied that I could relate, I had actually just finished at my job. Then, He rang up my granola that I bought and asked me what the price was. I had forgotten to write the number of the bulk bin on my bag! There was no price! I was being "that customer." I apologized profusely and offered to go check what the price was.

He said to not worry about it and started to type in another code for a similar product. Then he stopped and looked at me. He thought for a moment and said "Tell you what, you can just have it."

FOR FREE.

So what did we learn today? If you make the "help" happy, they'll make you happy.

Music to my Ears

The music playing in a store says a lot about the company. Some places, such as Aberzombies and Bitch, have edgy, techno club remixes playing, appealing to a customer's hip and trendy side. Other places, such as Bollister, play punk-pop music, enhancing the rebellious and carefree vibe. Pantyland generally plays pretty decent music (think Regina Spektor, Mika, Florence and the Machine types).

But no soundtrack is perfect. Sometimes a weird one will make its way into the mix. This next song is one such song. And it does play at Pantyland.

If the Sonic and Mario theme songs went on an acid trip together, this would be the result.

Looks Can Be Deceiving

Sometimes associates must deal with "demanding" customers. It is in these customers that we find an exercise in self-restraint.

This is what I look like:



This is how I actually feel.



And in case you were wondering, yes, that is a bear-o-dactyl.

No Really, I Do

Everyone once in a long while, you get a customer who is just plain awesome.

At the GAS sale, everything is either on a sale wall or in a sale bin. Customers don't always treat the merchandise well and will just pull out what they want. Consequently, the price tags fall off, and the sales associate must run and find the same item with a tag still attached. Sometimes it's the last one, and a manager must come and price it for us. As you can imagine, this causes quite the bottleneck at the cash register.

But not today.

Customer was the next person in line at the cash wrap. She placed a bra on the counter, and like many before her, told me:

"This one doesn't have a price tag."

Being the middle of my shift, I was about ready to cry at the point. But then she reached down and placed an identical bra on the table and said:

"But I went ahead and grabbed another bra like it that had a price tag on it. I hope that's ok"

I looked her straight in the eye and said "I Love You." Customer laughed. "I'm not kidding. Usually I have to go find the price tag for the customer." She told me that she had worked in retail before and understood how much big sales can suck.

Awesome customers make my life :D

Is This on Sale?

A Handy-Dandy-How-To-Guide on determining if an item is on sale.

1. Pick up an item from one of our sale bins
2. Locate the price tag
3. This is the key step: TURN THE TAG OVER
4. If it has a red sale sticker on it, Congratulations! It's on Sale!

It's really that simple!

Thank God for Counters...

...for the customers sake that is.

Currently, Pantyland is having its Giant-Ass-Sale-That-Happens-Twice-A-Year. Tuesday was the first day of this sale. On the first day of the Giant-Ass-Sale (GAS), we were extemely busy. This wasn't a big surprise. I had worked the GAS last year, and it's an absolute madhouse. Lines at the registers are extemely long. As a sales associate, there's nothing I can do about it. A lot of people just happen to attend the first day of GAS. This wasn't the problem on this particular Tuesday. The problem was when a customer(s) decided to be difficult AND there's a long line of people.

Never has my blood pressure risen so high because of one single customer.

I will openly admit that this situation occurred because of an cashiering error that I made. I had accidentally rang up an item twice, so that the woman was being charged for something she didn't buy. To be fair, this was my fourth consecutive hour of cashiering, so I was tired and my eyes were starting to glaze over.

However, the customer could have:
A) handled this honest mistake more graciously
B) cut me some slack.
C) waited patiently
D) all of the above.

I believe D would be the correct answer.

After I finished ringing up this woman's items, she looked at her receipt and noticed that I accidentally charged her for two of the same bra. Again, a very honest mistake. I apologized and offered to quickly put the money back onto her credit card, 3 minutes max. She began lecturing me on how I should be paying better attention (meanwhile, I have 8 customers in my line), I didn't know how to do my job, and that I must have made other mistakes as well. So she told me to count the items in her bag and the items on the receipt. There was only one extra item, and it was the bra. Convinced that I had somehow entered the wrong price on other items (which are all stored in the computer), the woman told me to recheck everything. And circle their prices on the receipt.
So I did.
All $238 of it.
Turns out, the bra was the only incorrect item. The customer realized that she was wrong and had caused my line to bottleneck for absolutely no reason. She began apologizing profusely. Thank god for that counter because I was dangerously close to tackling her to the ground.

Luckily, the woman in line behind this customer had worked in retail before and completely understood and was not irritated in the least bit. Otherwise I might have cried.

It's a Man's World

I think Pantyland is run by men.

Why do I think this? Someone, somewhere, thought it was a good idea to try and hang silky things on silky hangers. I don't think I need to tell you how much this doesn't work.

Why do I think this was a man's idea?

Women can cook AND clean AND have a job AND still look good at the end of the day. Now, I'm not saying men can't do that too. My very own father works and cooks and cleans just as much as my mother. However, I can't say I know any women who set their toaster on fire because they forgot to take the Poptart out of the foil wrapper.

Maybe It's Just Me...

At Pantyland, we put tissue paper in the bags so that they look pretty and feminine.

Sometimes, I like to take a piece of tissue paper in each hand and whirl them around. It makes me feel like one of those asian fan-dancers.

I Don't Sew.

The most frustrating customers fall in to one of two categories: women and children. My store sells bras and panties (We'll call it "Pantyland"), so I work with the former.

I'll just go ahead and say it - Women are BITCHY.

A customer ("Sporty") came in today looking for a particular kind of bra (wireless). We don't have a lot of styles in this particular kind of bra, but Pantyland does have a couple of styles. I showed Sporty the different options. Then she wanted to see another kind of bra (unlined). No big deal, lots of women want options. So I led her to unlined bras. Then, she wanted to see a bra that combined the two (unlined wireless). Unfortunately, we don't carry those. Insert Dirty look # 1. Sporty then decided to go back to the first bras I showed her. She told me what size she wanted, and then stood and watched while I dug through the bra bin. We didn't have her size. Dirty look # 2. So we went to the other bra bins. Again, she watched while I dug through 30 bras looking for her size. It wasn't the color she wanted. Dirty Look #3. Bra in hand, I got her a dressing room. It wasn't big enough. Dirty Look #4. Sporty decides that she doesn't like the color of the bra, but wants to try on a sports bra. And yoga shorts. I go get them for her. Decides she likes the sports bra, but in a different color. A color we don't have. The customer stares at me (Dirty Look #5), and huffs that "Well, I really need it in white."

What I would like to say: You need it in white? What we have out is what we have. We don't custom make bras. If we did make custom bras, we wouldn't mass produce all these other ones. However, we don't make custom bras. I don't sew. So don't huff at me and expect me to go to the back and magically produce merchandise that doesn't exist just because you want it.

What I actually said: I'm sorry ma'am, what we have out is what we have. You could try another store or you can order online.

Moral of the story - Associates can't do magic. If we don't have something in stock, you're not getting it today.

Credit Cards

The worst part about working retail by far is selling credit cards. It's not the actual selling that's so bad. I can stand and talk about credit cards for hours. It's the customers that make it terrible. Is it really necessary for you to interrupt me in the middle of my schpiel to tell me that you don't want a credit card? Do you honestly think it's going to make me ring up your merchandise any faster? No. I understand that we try to sell you a credit card every time you come here, really I do. And I understand that you probably get tired of it. But believe me, selling credit cards for 8 straight hours and then getting rejected for 8 straight hours is WAAAAAY worse than being sold to for about 30 seconds. If you don't want a credit card, fine. I don't really give a shit. It's not like I enjoy telling you the benefits of our card. And it's not like I get paid anymore if you sign up for one. I would really prefer to just make small talk and ring up your stuff. But it's my job. I HAVE to do it. So please show a little courtesy and let me finish. Because every time you interrupt me, I'm going to cram all of your shit into the smallest fucking bag I can find. It's not that much to ask. You don't even have to smile at me. Just let me talk, and then you can decline politely. Otherwise, the panties that you bought for your friend's bachelorette party will be wadded and wrinkled. And she will think you're a cheapskate. And an asshole. Cuz you are.

Btw, lady who was still polite to me after standing behind the woman who tried to get a credit card for 20 minutes, you are my hero. I love you.

In the Beginning...

Each summer, thousands of college students across the country flock home in search of a summer job. Like many of these seasonal employees, I work in retail. This is a blog of my experiences as a "sales associate."

Before I begin posting, I would like to add a disclaimer. This blog is not a reflection on my managers, coworkers, or company that I work for (mostly). This is a commentary on the stupidity of the human race.

Retail makes me hate you.