Now that I've been a part-time retail sales associate making just above minimum wage for a few weeks, I feel totally qualified to share some of my profound workplace observations. Make no mistake, I'm really enjoying working and the whole idea of avoiding financial ruin is nice too. But I can't help but find humor in comparing my current job to my former career.
Employers---
Don't include any Cheetah Girls songs in your business' musical line up. A small part of your employee's soul will die when she hears "One World" every night at approximately 8:00pm. The same can be said for the Bubblegum song.
If you're going to have your 17 year old, high school senior supervisor train the 30 year old former Human Resources Manager, you might want to give them some kind of heads up beforehand. In doing so, you can prevent the awkwardness involved with the child telling the elder that she's doing a great job and really picking up everything quickly and then asking the elder if this is her first job.
Oprah says 50 is the new 30, not 30 is the new 50. Thirty seems awfully young to be the oldest employee.
Employees---
Don't ask me if I want candy from the machine every time you go to break. Yes, the offer is nice but I don't enjoy having to say no while you stare at me in disbelief and I silently (or sometimes out loud) remind myself that I'm the fattest I've ever been.
Customers---
Don't tell me mid-transaction that you think some humans have super powers that are left untapped because we live in a society where everyone has to fit "in the box". My mind will stumble and then I'll have to figure out what I've already scanned and what's left to scan.
If you're an 8 year old girl shopping with a friend and no parent in sight, don't offer me $5 for $7 socks. At first, when you offer to "trade me" the $5 for the $7 socks, I'll think it's cute. Then when you get an attitude and try to force me to take the $5, I'll have to resist the urge to put you in the naughty spot.
Don't spend 45 minutes walking through the store gathering 20 items of clothing and then stuff them somewhere random. Just bring the pile to the counter and tell me you suddenly got diarrhea and have to leave or your super powers told you someone needs to be saved. I'll understand.