I had such a wonderful day. No really, I did. First I forget to have a shower cause I'm writing a letter, so I rush to have my shower. My toasted cheese sandwiches come out all stiff and stale tasting cause the microwave went nuts with the defrost programme on the bread. The clothes I put in the washing machine to wash super-quick are only somewhat clean cause I forgot to put in the fucking soap powder. I am rushing off to work - I lose a sock. I can't find it ANYWHERE!! I give up, get another sock - leave.
I get there, just in time. My friend Priscilla has left - I miss her, cause she was great. New girl there - has TAKEN MY LOCKER. I'm not permanent staff, so I get ousted.
So! My bag lives on TOP of the locker cabinet now. I go to work. I like to start by detangling the necklaces in the bargain bin. I do that after I make a quick run about the floor, colour blocking everything. Colour blocking is when you sort out the clothes so that they're all in the correct colour order. As you know, I'm excellent with colours. Colour blocking is my specialty. Actually, everything clothes is my specialty. I'm great with clothes. So I block everything, and the ladies in charge are chatting to the new girl, and with each other, establishing the lass. Now, she's worked retail in Good Sammy's in Mandurah. That's some way from Perth - it's a long way away and you couldn't get me to live there to save my life, no matter how pretty the beaches are there. Anyway. So, she starts there that day. She seems nice enough, and I'm very friendly to her. There are a number of things she finds out quickly:
1. I'm not allowed to use the till yet. They haven't taught me the protocol. I'm not so stupid that I can't use a till. If I can code webpages and build songs from a single melody, which requires a sense of structure and pattern, then I can damned well use a fucking till. It's up to the folks in charge, see? And they haven't said aye yet, and I doubt they will cause I'm only there for another three weeks after this one or something.
2. I used to be an art student. I tell her nothing of my career or my life, just made a joke that my art training had to come in some use (I was doing the cabinet display and I was explaining why a handbag couldn't go on one side of the cabinet).
3. Someone may have told her I do work for the dole. It even might have been me. I don't remember because I don't think about chatting, I think about the next mess the customer leaves me to clean and what heavy sweaters I need to put out and colour block next, not what I'm saying to the new girl. My brain has been trained that way.
So anyway, I'm there, doing my thing, racking some new stock, and I start to feel tight in the chest. My cheeks burn. Panic rises in my chest. Depression creeps. I can't breath. Before I know it, I run out the back before I burst into tears. The bosses are sweet and let me go have a minute, and I don't know WHY I break down, I just do. I was so upset, I can't figure out why. I just was. Maybe it's cause I'm turning 25 (Jen was so sweet and said I didn't look 25 at all). Anyway, I kinda pull my shit back together, and that was pretty strong of me cause I can't tell you how bad I feel when depression hits. No doubt the antidepressants helped me out a lot.
I go back out the front, putting on the stiff upper lip, being strong. I bring out another tub of clothes, and I'm hanging them when the new girl looks to me while she puts a jumper on a hanger.
"So," she says, conversationally, "Are you going to spend the rest of your life on the dole?"
I look up, I blink, and for a good ten seconds, my mouth hangs open in shock. Did that bitch just say what she did? Yes... yes she did. Okay. So my mouth starts moving, my brain starts ticking, and I am in emotionally too much shock to react. I already had an already emotionally shaky morning, and this cunt goes and says something like that to me. I just snorted at her.
"No, I hope not. You know it's really hard being on the dole, I don't like it. I barely have any money to myself, I have to pay for all my necessities-"
"You don't have money left over?"
"Hah! No. Being on the dole *sucks*."
I kinda walked off and got another tub of clothes, and I was so upset. I was just really insulted and pissed. My sister Helen reckons I should have told her to mind her own bloody business.
What shits me is the kind of THING that insinuates, you know? Like I dislike working or something. She'd said to me before:
"I advise that you get busy so that you don't get in trouble with the bosses."
I looked to what was in my hands. A pile of necklaces. I lifted up the tangle and looked at her. "You see this?"
She nodded.
"These are necklaces the customers might like to buy. I have to untangle them, otherwise, when a customer comes in?" I pick one necklace out, and the rest come with it in an unattractive knot. "See? They can't get what they want"
She sort of nods.
Now, I don't think she's intentionally a bitch, I think she just says stupid things that upset me. What shitted me was that she was acting like I was being lazy. I came out later and she and Jen (my good buddy) were having a discussion about me. Jen was defending me, saying that I wasn't allowed to use the till, but that it was best to let me do the packing behind the counter (putting clothes in bags, putting coat hangers away, etc) and to hang the clothes up and help the customers if they need to know where something is. The girl seemed to understand, realising why I was doing what I was doing and calling her whenever a customer needed to buy something. I mean, I feel so useless being unable to use the till, but I talked to them about it and they said they'd teach me when they'd teach me, and they haven't yet. It's very frustrating.
Other than that, I work REALLY damned hard there. I put those clothes away on their racks quicker than you can say "Do you have that in mauve?" and I know where everything goes, too. I'm good with displays, I don't laze around, I like talking to people - I'm a brilliant retail sales girl. I was beginning to feel really proud of the work I do until that girl arrived today and talked to me like that. All I can say is, I hope she watches herself when she works with Deb. I know Deb won't take any shit, and I would never fuck with Deb. Deb's nice, but Deb has her way, and you don't screw with it.
Oh, and I was standing at the counter, and I'd taken my cardigen off. Jen sort of looked kind of confused and amused at the same time, and pointed at my pants.
"Nancy, you have something sticking out the back of your pants."
Ohhhh no, I think. It's toilet paper, I think. I reach around at the back and am confronted with a soft, big purple furry thing. Pulling it out, I realise...
It's my SOCK. The one I'd hopelessly lost that morning. After the insult, the upset, the terrible day I'd had, I did the only thing that I could.
I burst out into laughter. Possibly a grave mistake, as I could have gotten into trouble for that.
Oh - another thing. There was this HUGE beefy shaven headed guy behind the counter, and I was mindlessly singing and doing harmonies like I usually do. This guy looks at me and goes.
"What'd you do with the money?"
He said it really loud and demanding. I blinked. "Uhm... uh..."
He repeats himself - very firmly and scarily. "What did you do with the money?!"
Okay - I'm scared now. "I - uh - I uh uh - wh- what money?"
"The money your mother gave you for singing lessons..."
I blinked again. I think he insulted me. I'm lost. I can only laugh because it means that he doesn't want to kill me. I just laugh, and I get a little hysterical and run back for more clothes to hang out. Jackie told me to slow down and relax. Good move, cause that guy scared the fucking shit out of me.
Anyway. That's my day. Pretty tiring, really. Oh, and I can't find my cat Lenny! He didn't turn up for dinner. I hope he turns up - I can't be without him, I love my baby.
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