As I read through stories about asshat managers and corporate lackeys that couldn't find their asses with both hands, a map, and a Sherpa to guide them, I can't help but think back and chuckle a bit at some of the past shenanigans and, dare I say, tomfoolery, I engaged in while working at Old Slavery in days gone by for the express purpose of keeping what little sanity I had left.
I am convinced that I am the reason that particular Old Slavery (I haven't been to any others, so I don't know if it's a company-wide thing) got rid of the whiteboard in the fitting rooms and the earpieces for the radios.
The whiteboard in the fitting rooms were ostensibly for the fitting room slave to write "Welcome to the fitting room! My name is ____" So the custys would know exactly who to blame when their size 50 fat asses didn't fit in size six jeans. I frequently got bored and would write semi-sarcastic little notes, most of which are lost in the mists of time. One memorable day, however, I struck gold.
It's no secret that Old Slavery plays the worst excuse for music in the history of everything on endless loop. The fitting room used to have a nice little volume knob that I would turn to zero every time I was assigned there, until management cranked it to 11, then removed the knob.
During the holidays.
So one fine day, with a line of custys out the friggin' door, a pile of go-backs twice as tall as I was (sadly not an exaggeration), and a eight-hour shift staring me in the face like the phrase "Justifiable homicide," I did the only thing I could do. I wrote the following on the white board:
"Welcome to the fitting room! While you wait, please enjoy the Cool Rock And Pop playing over our loudspeakers!"
Everyone thought it was funny, or at least mildly amusing. Except the corporate spy who took a picture and got me yelled at by the GM, who spent most of her time eating sushi in the office anyway.
As for the radios, those earpieces were just awesome. At one point, we were having a huge "get rid of everything" sale. The GM and assistant manager were both up on ladders in the kid's section pulling stuff from the overstock as a group of fifty or so women gathered around like carp. Every time one of the managers would pull out an item and call out its size, everyone would fling their hands into the air calling for it.
I couldn't resist.
I stood back and every time the group would raise their hands for an item, I'd say into the radio, in my best Finding Nemo seagull impression, "Mine! Mine Mine!"
Got yelled at for that one too.
I'm pretty sure the only reason I didn't get fired for those and the oh, so many other shenanigans I pulled was the fact that I was unaccountably good at selling that damn credit card.
I don't always mock customers, but when I do, I get yelled at.
Stay sane, my friends.