Tag Archives: box cutter

Tales of a Working Stiff

My look most day at My Retail Job

How I avoid frostbite.

I have been at My Retail Job for 3 months now.  Things are going pretty well.  It doesn’t feel like I got hit by a Mack truck anymore.  I would say it was more like a golf cart.  Maybe next month, it will feel like a 10-speed.  The month after that?  Perhaps a tricycle.

I am enjoying My Retail Job.  It’s fun.  It’s stress free.  I’m feeling more comfortable in my role there.  But I am discovering and seeing things that I don’t usually see in a normal day.

  • The elderly will go to great lengths to save 20 cents on a loaf of bread.  Even if it means spending $4 in gas to do so.
  • I have a bazillion cuts and bruises on my body.  Most days it looks like I got into a fight with a rooster.  But there are no roosters at work.  I swear.
  • By the end of my shift my hands look like that of a Grave Digger.  You don’t want to know.
  • I still don’t like using the walkie talkie, but I’m getting used to it.  Although I still get that little butt pucker when I hear someone ask me a question over it.
  • A man decked out in a dress, high heels and makeup looks like a man decked out in a dress, high heels and makeup.
  • Your extremities can go into frostbite mode when you are in the freezer after about 3 minutes.  Even with a coat, hat and gloves.  Very glamorous.  You wish you were me.
  • Children who surround you like crows on a carcass is not creepy at all.  Especially when they are staring you down.  Having mother there to call them off is of no comfort.  I think I’d rather be chased by a bear.
  • Some parents think the isles of the store is for playing Chase.  Go entertain the kiddies in the parking lot so I can get some work done.  Please.
  • I’m pretty sure I will slice off part of my finger with a box cutter before this gig is up.
  • I cannot for the life of me, fold the top of a box so that it closes.  Folding the top of a box makes the Rubik’s Cube seem like a walk in the park.
  • I can’t figure out how I got this job since it seems that the prerequisite is to smoke.  Oh wait.  I inhaled once when I was 14.  That must count.

The hours are long and I take home enough bacon to feed a hermit crab.  But having my own thing, feeling like I’m contributing and boosting my confidence?  Priceless.  I highly recommend it.  Frostbite, creepy children and all.