This past summer, I decided I needed something to assist me in occupying the vast amounts of free time I had on my hands. Whatever I ended up doing, why not make some extra money? Or in this case, spend all that extra money but accumulate a fantastically awesome wardrobe. So, I got a job at the mall, working for the greatest clothing company of all generations: Gap.
If you've known me even for a small amount of time, you probably know about my obsession with Gap clothes. I've been shopping at this store for years, but it started getting really bad around 2007 when I discovered I could order 'tall'-sized pants and jeans at Gap.com. If you spent your entire childhood and teenage years like I had wearing flood pants and tapered mom jeans, you might be able to understand how thrilling this discovery was for me.
When I moved back to Akron, my close proximity to the mall only fueled my obsession. I became a regular at the store, and most of the employees began recognizing me and what I weirdo I was because I was at Gap at least three times a week. Keeping this in mind, I thought that if I wanted to get another part-time job, the only place I would want to work would be at this fabulous store. I already knew most of the employees there anyway, right?
This was my first venture into the world of retail. My jobs during school were always in food service. I didn't really want to get into another restaurant job; it's actually really hard work. Why cook in a hot kitchen or get shitty tips from waiting on people when you can just stand around in the air conditioning and fold khakis all day? You don't smell like grease when you leave, and you get a discount on all the fab merch. Honestly, it's a no-brainer.
Other reasons why this job was perfect for me: I have one of the most neat and organized closets you will ever see, and I just happen to have a natural talent for folding shirts. Also, I knew more about the clothing lines when I started than most of the people who already worked there.
So, I've been working at this store for seven months now, and I think I've only had about one bad day. After a few months had passed, I got to know most of the ladies working there, and working with them turned out to be a great way to spend 3-7 hours of my day. The ones who have been there a couple of years or longer have some really great stories about annoying customers, and even I've developed a few of my own... because as most of you know, I enjoy making fun of people.
In spirit of the Christmas season, I thought you might enjoy a glimpse into some of the shit that has gone down at the Gap during the mad holiday shopping rush:
PITA (pain in the ass) #1 - The Shafty Shoplifters. Of course. This will be brief and fairly vague, as I don't want to give you all tips on how to steal from the Gap, but GOD PEOPLE SUCK. And these people are awfully fucking crafty, too. Like, I suffered through college (and high school, for that matter), and I'm still not smart enough to steal from a store. If I knew I could get clothes for free for the rest of my life, I wouldn't have wasted all those precious years sleeping in class.
PITA #2 - The Size-Searchers. I know you've seen me standing here, re-folding this entire table of shirts, yet when I leave for 2 seconds and come back, those fucking shirts are spread all over the table again. You had pull the very bottom shirt out, causing the whole shirt-tower to topple over; THEN after you held it up to see what it looked like, you decided it wouldn't look good on your fat ass, so you discard it carelessly on the table (or floor), usually crumpled up in a ball so it gets nice and wrinkled. Sweet!
PITA #3 - The Fitting Room Fuckers. I always must prepare myself to get thoroughly pissed off whenever I go back there to pick up the clothes you monsters tried on and didn't like. Let's try on every size and color of every shirt and every size and length of pants/jeans, and then just leave them on the floor with the hangers piled on top. Men, you aren't nearly as bad as the ladies because you don't care how your ass looks in a pair of jeans, you just care if they fit or not. Ladies, do you leave your closet at home looking like a roll of fabric exploded in it? DIDN'T THINK SO.
PITA #4 - Crazy Credit Card Lady. She walks up to the register, sets her selections down, and then swipes her Visa. I haven't even rung anything up yet!!! What the fuck are you doing?! Did the credit card machine give you any indication that it was time to swipe?! Go ahead and put your card back in your wallet, put the wallet back in your purse and zip it up securely and then I'll tell you you're going to have to swipe it again. I don't give a shit if your sassy ass gets annoyed, and NO your card is not going to be charged twice.
PITA #5 - The Moms. Grandmas, this includes you, too. There is a Gap Kids & Baby section attached to our store, and whenever I work on that side, I have to deal with the mothers.
Mom 1 - Do you have this in a size 5T?
Me - Everything we have is out.
Mom 1 - Well could you just go in the back and double-check?
Me - I mean... OK.
-- this is where I take a quick stroll to the break room, have a sip of my Starbucks latte, and come back out, shrugging my shoulders --
Me - Nope, sorry.
Whenever there is a sale sign in the window, these pushy broads descend like vultures on a carcass, swarming the discount rack like bees to a fucking jar of fucking honey. Hangers and clothes go a-flying, leaving behind a path of mom-fueled destruction. Their strollers are already covered with dangling bags from Gymboree and The Children's Place, and serve as means to cut the other moms off while they dig through the stacks of deals. At the end of the night, I'm cleaning up piles of clothes on the floor, broken hangers, diapers in the fitting rooms and Cheerios off of the shelving units. All that bullshit, and you only spend $10 for two one-zies from the sale rack. Really, thanks for your business.
PITA #6 - Totally Oblivious Register Tramps. So, on the kids and baby side of things, there are two registers that are rarely in use. We've opened them up during busy periods like Black Friday and such, but we usually direct all our check-out traffic to the adult side. I mean, sure, there are registers and one can rightfully assume that they are open and that people can ring their stuff at the kids' counter. EXCEPT: There are always (big) signs in front of each register, stating in bold letters that these registers are currently not in use and that you should please take your purchases to the other side. Well, to about 99.9% of our shoppers, these are invisible signs. Either that or there is fine print at the bottom that declares, "Just joking. You can totally check-out at these registers." I can't tell you how many times I've seen people standing at that counter, just waiting. And getting pissed off. "If you're ready to check out," I say, "they'll get you on the other side." And they look at me like, why the fuck couldn't you have told me sooner? It is suuuuch an inconvenience to make them walk 20 steps to the other registers; I totally understand their discouragement.
I had one lady that just didn't understand what I was doing over there on the kids side if I wasn't ringing at the register. When I told her politely to go over to the other side, she replied, "Well what is the point of you being over here then?" Eh, well, to make sure you assholes don't walk out with a pile of kids' denim, to fix the messes you've made to neat stacks of shirts, to put back all the shit your kid tried on that you didn't want to buy them AND to tell idiots like YOU to go over to the registers on the other side.
PITA #7 - The Paranoid Price-Checkers. (I was only going to do 6 PITAs, but this one is worth a mention, too.) The sale signs in the windows and all over the racks, the marked-down price on the tags and the employees telling you what's on sale just is not enough... Y'all require a price check to be sure you won't be paying a cent more for something than what you've figured out in your head. SO, you make me stop what I'm doing, walk all the way to the register, log in and scan the damn barcode. If the item is two more dollars than price you had computed, "Oh no, I don't want it then."
For those of you brave enough to chance it at the register, I can see you staring intently at the screen in front of you as each item comes up, one-by-one, making sure there aren't any numbers appearing that you don't recognize.
Savvy Shopper - That's supposed to be 40% off.
Me - The discount will be reflected once everything is rung up.
-- a few seconds pass --
Savvy Shopper - That was marked $9.99, not $11.99.
Me - Yep. Just give it a minute.
-- a few more seconds go by --
Savvy Shopper - Whoa whoa hold on, you rang that up TWICE.
Me - Oops did I? Good thing you were paying close attention...
The store, just before it opens:
After exposure to customers:
"Give me that shirt, bitch!"
*****
I think I'm done now. I've got plenty more, but I don't want to sound like an asshole. My kind advice for the rest of you trying to squeeze in some last-minute gift getting: Steal something and DIE. If there isn't a size left in the shirt you really wanted for your husband, don't bitch and moan at the unsuspecting employee folding jeans... you should've got your ass to the mall sooner. Stay out of the moms' path or their kids will puke on you. If you want to complain about Gap's prices, fucking go to Wal-Mart.
Merry Christmas, Assholes!
No comments:
Post a Comment