Confessions of a Mall Worker
Gentle reader,
As I may or may not have mentioned before [probably not.], I have in recent months delved into an enterprise which has its share of indescribable glory as well as its share of quiet suffering. I am, of course, referring to the world of retail sales.
To clarify, or perhaps confuse, it had been a secret girlhood dream of mine to work at the mall. I'm not sure just how to describe it. The chic woman clad in all black spritzing French perfume at oblivious passersby, the young 20-something spending an entire afternoon folding and refolding the same stack of flannel shirts, the aproned barista who openly scoffs at anyone ordering a venti-- these were the elite whom I secretly envied. They were the keepers of the perfume I was too young to wear, the clothes I was too broke to buy, and the caffeine I wasn't allowed to imbibe. They were wonderful and glamorous in every way, as if they were the brands they represented. The woman working at the perfume counter may as well have been a Parisian model saddled on the back of a Vespa, clinging to a glass of champagne in one hand and her chiseled boyfriend's waist with the other. The hipster probably spent every weekend holed up in a snowed-in log cabin with five of her co-ed friends, all sporting skinny jeans and burgundy cable-knit pullovers. The barista most likely spends her time writing novels on her laptop and arguing with her intellectual friends over the genius of Joyce.
And your point is...?, you may ask. Very well. My point is that all is not what it may seem! Please, hold your gasps of disbelief for later. What I mean to say is that being employed in the mall has its trials as well as its triumphs. You see, gentle reader, I myself have experienced the "other side of the fence," as they say. For the past six months, I have been working at the heart of a commercial center [which shall remained unnamed] as a sales consultant. Do not be fooled by the deceptively simple term "sales consultant." In reality, there is so much more to the job. We are not mere cashiers [no offense to cashiers], nor mere stock girls [no offense to stock girls]. We are also there to consult. We tell people they look wonderful wearing or standing next to our products. We say things like, "Perhaps blue is more your color," or "Those bring out the sparkle in your eyes beautifully," or "You know what would look great with that necklace? These fabulous earrings!". We assure people that our products are hygienic, hypoallergenic, and photogenic. We dissuade them from smashing our products with a hammer just "to see if they're durable." We also deal with the occasional unfortunate situation. We get yelled at when people try to return a product without a receipt. Really people, it's the universal policy. Have you really never made a purchase anywhere before? We get heavy sighs and eye rolls when we take a little longer than ideal to ring someone up. We get the dirty looks of parents when we have to ask their feral children not to climb onto the glass display cases.
And yet... there are the wonderful moments that make everything else worthwhile. It's the chance to see a mother helping her young daughter pick out the perfect pair of earrings for her junior prom. It's the chance to see a couple of best friends buying a matching set of BFF bracelets. It's also the chance to see a teenage boy choosing a heart necklace for his and his girlfriend's anniversary... six months in advance. In a world that can often seem harsh or selfish, it is a real privilege to witness these small acts of generosity, friendship, and love.
To conclude, there is a lot more to the realm of retail sales and shopping than meets the eye. Even in a place as inconspicuous as a shopping mall, one can catch a glimpse into the human heart. So the next time you're in the mall, have a quick look around and see what you can discover.
Love,
A Non-Disgruntled Worker
As I may or may not have mentioned before [probably not.], I have in recent months delved into an enterprise which has its share of indescribable glory as well as its share of quiet suffering. I am, of course, referring to the world of retail sales.
To clarify, or perhaps confuse, it had been a secret girlhood dream of mine to work at the mall. I'm not sure just how to describe it. The chic woman clad in all black spritzing French perfume at oblivious passersby, the young 20-something spending an entire afternoon folding and refolding the same stack of flannel shirts, the aproned barista who openly scoffs at anyone ordering a venti-- these were the elite whom I secretly envied. They were the keepers of the perfume I was too young to wear, the clothes I was too broke to buy, and the caffeine I wasn't allowed to imbibe. They were wonderful and glamorous in every way, as if they were the brands they represented. The woman working at the perfume counter may as well have been a Parisian model saddled on the back of a Vespa, clinging to a glass of champagne in one hand and her chiseled boyfriend's waist with the other. The hipster probably spent every weekend holed up in a snowed-in log cabin with five of her co-ed friends, all sporting skinny jeans and burgundy cable-knit pullovers. The barista most likely spends her time writing novels on her laptop and arguing with her intellectual friends over the genius of Joyce.
And your point is...?, you may ask. Very well. My point is that all is not what it may seem! Please, hold your gasps of disbelief for later. What I mean to say is that being employed in the mall has its trials as well as its triumphs. You see, gentle reader, I myself have experienced the "other side of the fence," as they say. For the past six months, I have been working at the heart of a commercial center [which shall remained unnamed] as a sales consultant. Do not be fooled by the deceptively simple term "sales consultant." In reality, there is so much more to the job. We are not mere cashiers [no offense to cashiers], nor mere stock girls [no offense to stock girls]. We are also there to consult. We tell people they look wonderful wearing or standing next to our products. We say things like, "Perhaps blue is more your color," or "Those bring out the sparkle in your eyes beautifully," or "You know what would look great with that necklace? These fabulous earrings!". We assure people that our products are hygienic, hypoallergenic, and photogenic. We dissuade them from smashing our products with a hammer just "to see if they're durable." We also deal with the occasional unfortunate situation. We get yelled at when people try to return a product without a receipt. Really people, it's the universal policy. Have you really never made a purchase anywhere before? We get heavy sighs and eye rolls when we take a little longer than ideal to ring someone up. We get the dirty looks of parents when we have to ask their feral children not to climb onto the glass display cases.
And yet... there are the wonderful moments that make everything else worthwhile. It's the chance to see a mother helping her young daughter pick out the perfect pair of earrings for her junior prom. It's the chance to see a couple of best friends buying a matching set of BFF bracelets. It's also the chance to see a teenage boy choosing a heart necklace for his and his girlfriend's anniversary... six months in advance. In a world that can often seem harsh or selfish, it is a real privilege to witness these small acts of generosity, friendship, and love.
To conclude, there is a lot more to the realm of retail sales and shopping than meets the eye. Even in a place as inconspicuous as a shopping mall, one can catch a glimpse into the human heart. So the next time you're in the mall, have a quick look around and see what you can discover.
Love,
A Non-Disgruntled Worker