But can you steal their flair?

This post is standing between me and brunch, but I care enough to bring you, via Tracey, Disaffected!

If you've worked in a retail establishment anytime in the past ten years, in particular, you may want to check this out. The time I've done in a couple big-box bookstores (that start with "B", coincidentally...) has given me a certain level of compassion for the slack-jawed service I've grown accustomed to in recent years...because I've read the training manual, as it were, and it is not compelling. (Let's not even discuss the videos. I'd rather be stuck in front of the acid trip that is Boobah for 48 hours with Yanni in the background than watch one more single Borders training video. Fuckers.) I've also been subject to the bag checks upon leaving the store, and the soul-deadening "team meetings", wherein you are threatened with demerits if you don't ask people for their email addresses, and none of this, by the way, impacts your seven bucks an hour at all.

But all that's behind me now, thank God. Now I can drink my coffee anywhere in the store I damned well please, and also read for free in the cafe when I feel like it, and don't think I don't. They owe me a lifetime Oprah subscription, at least. But I still straighten books compulsively, while repressing my need to alphabetize, and correct crooked sales stickers. It's been a long road, that's for sure - but it's a much better view from this side of the counter, I have to admit.

(And just go to her links, people - they're always awesome, and just like what I'd try to share with you if I wasn't so damned lazy lately!)

Comments

[sweetney]

oh god, FLAIR! [shudder]