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July 03, 2010

Pushing It To The Max

Boys and Girls, I have enjoyed a life filled with varied careers...most of which have been managerial positions. Been working a long time and have managed a slew of people along the way.  However, working in the personnel office with Wally, my first foray into the retail sector is, I swear, hands-down, the most challenging position I have ever held.  What now, you ask?  Hold tight, 'cause the last few weeks have been doozies.

Let's start with attire.  Wally has a dress code, as such.  Really very simple; not hard to adhere to.  Boring  but not a major issue. Depending on the section of the store in which you work, you may be allowed to wear jeans or, in the summer, shorts.  If you're working outside, you can ditch the boring blue tops and wear a light shade.  And, if you work on the sales floor, you can wear capris.  Sounds reasonable, right?  So, when did "walking shorts" or "executive shorts" become a part of the code?  Did you assume that because you are short in stature that long shorts will pass as capris?  They end at, or above, your knee, sista'. Look up the definition...go home and change.

No red, pink, turquoise, you name it, under your blue.  Not hard.  White or blue.  With a little thought you can get quite creative with blue and white.  And, remember, we said lighter shades for the folks working outside.  For the fellows, most obviously, it means a white t-shirt.  Did I say WHITE?  I don't think I said "DINGY" and I sure as hell didn't say pulled from under the bed and worn with every wrinkle possible. What happened to pride in appearance?

Jeans on the sales floor are sometimes permitted.  We wore them each Friday in a fund-raising effort for the local childrens' hospital.  Yesterday wasn't it.  The effort had ended.  My soror  strolled in big as day with jeans on.  "Where're you going in jeans?"  Go home and change.  Just went over the dress code with a new cashier, more on him in a minute, and did he show up on the second day in shorts?  (No, Josh...if you're reading this...they were NOT capris. LOL)  Did the policy say cashiers wear shorts?  Go home and change.

And the folks want to get mad because they're sent home or asked to change. Because they've been worn  before and no one said anything?  Obviously, the right people didn't see you.  Now, you've been seen.  Go home and change.  Please.

But to the latest in my trainees.  Seems as though that is all that I've been doing for the past month.  There are the ones who are:  earnest "Lord, I just need this job"; the "how much can I get away with?"; the "you're old; I'm young and smarter" and more.  All very easy to identify.  But every now and then, one blindsides you.  This being the case with my latest baby boy.  Cassanova is my nickname for him.  Wants to be smooth.  Given a few more years, maybe.  But right now?  You're learning, baby boy.  Wowed them in the interviews but no one picked up on the fact that he's only 18 and still in high school!!!  Say what?  Not an issue; we can deal.

Day One:  the wrong type of I.D.  Didn't I give you a list showing you what was acceptable?  Then he walked in from break with a quart of chicken wings.  Hold on, baby boy, this is a class.  And, I've got signs posted about food and drink. Then we had to have a discussion about the hat.  Take it off...it doesn't say Wally. Tired of seeing you yawing. No one really cares whether you are not a morning person.  Get a good night's sleep and you can hang. Day Two: the I.D. is still a problem but we can deal with that as well.  No, I am not doing anything illegal. If mamas are going to change the baby's name after the divorce, do it all the way around--don't half-step--change it on everything.  Please.  And now, we're onto the dreaded computer modules.  You can't out-slick the system, brother.   Sent to the register for some quick hands-on and what a wake-up call for the young man.  Our system is totally different from the one he's accustomed to.  Didn't I tell you that?  So, he calls me Mama and I'm ready to take him to the woodshed.

Worked outside trying to soak, and I mean soak, my struggling plants.  So why did the water shut off?  I mean just stopped.  Is it a busted pipe?  Did someone sneak around on the side and turn it off? Naw, the faucet's still turned on and the faucets come on in the house but outside?  Nada.  Lawd, Lawd. Add that to the air conditioner which has decided to make an unholy racket when it is turned on.  Spare me.  I'm going to find something else to do, like read a book, and tune these events out.

Be safe this holiday weekend. I am truly going to miss not being in D.C., for the 4th. Nobody does fireworks like the nation's capital.  Be Blessed.

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