Like promised, I said I would start documenting my days at my new retail job in Calgary, AB. So here it is...
I'll be honest: I wasn't necessarily expecting to hate my new job as a salesperson but I was definitely expecting to bitch about it a lot more, what with the low wage and what not. But to my pleasant surprise, I haven't felt a bitch-fit coming on and it's already been two weeks! What can I say, I absolutely love clothes, the ongoing shopping atmosphere, the putting away of clothes and the search for clothes in the overwhelming stockroom. I love helping people out with decisions or pointing them out to clothing items they may enjoy. The people I work with are sweethearts, the managers are nice and professional; I feel like I am part of a team of dedicated & hard-working people which motivates me to do the best of jobs. I enjoy coming in for my shifts, I like learning more and more everyday about the company and how things are done...I'm just quite content with how everything is going. Sometimes I think: why on earth didn't I turn to retail sooner? I remember girls in high school telling me to never work retail because all the people I'll work with will be snob bitches with no life. I really believed it and was expecting the worst. But, no encounter of such has happened, yet.
Yesterday was one of those days where I was in the stockroom for pretty much the entire day. I've been fighting a cold that's been giving me an irritated throat and a runny nose. Working in the warm stockroom was quite a nice alternative to working the air-conditioned sales floor. Pulling out replenishments for the sales floor is time consuming to say the least. It was my second time taking care of such a thing and I'm hoping I'm getting better at how fast I can find items in the overstuffed stockroom. Sometimes an item will be right in front of me and easy to pull out. At other times, I'll need to pull out a ladder and climb to the top to reach for the item I am looking for... I don't have vertigo but the items can be quite high and hard to reach. My small size of five feet two doesn't help either. There are times where I am sitting on the top rung thinking things like "if this ladder break, this won't be pretty." It's always satisfying to climb down the ladder, palms sweaty, with the article of clothing in hand, the pencil and replenishment sheet in the other. Then, when the clothing search reaches an end, there are two flights of stairs to climb before putting the clothes on a rack and back to where they belong in the store. Although the hours spent in the stockroom can be long ones, there is this serene and peaceful quietness that cannot be found upstairs on the sales floor. Most of the time you are alone or two other girls might be there doing their thing too. The break room is close by, but somehow I feel like the clothes and I are the only ones on the planet at the precise moment in time when I'm searching for clothes and admiring them at the same time.
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