I wanted to break away from the norm of regular RHU rants and do something different for change since it pertains to retail.
Now if you’re like me, you enjoy letting loose once in a while and letting your hair down by socializing outside of work with your coworkers.
Who else understands your plight of being exploited by crazy custys than your peers who slave to the grind while wearing plastered smiles on their faces?
A retail slave has a right to get their party on.
Can I get a what what?
You know what they say; the party gets started when retail slaves get together!
Since the dawn of retail time, I have partied with the best of them with my fellow co-employees at various retail companies so I speak from personal experience about my drunken days of retail debauchery.
I’m sure many of you reading this can relate! (Don’t act like you don’t know! I know I’m not the only one here! Not a word from the peanut gallery? LOL! You know who you are!)
Now I worked at the fine jewelry counter while Mary worked in accessories. Immediately we hit it off and became BFFs. Anyway, Mary had just moved into her new apartment and decided to host a late night housewarming dinner with few friends from work.
Now understand this was Saturday night and word quickly spread around the store about the invite and the few friends turned into fifty attendees who began showing up at her little cramped apartment.
It soon became evident that the small little dinner was to be transformed into the wild party of the century!
Just to let everyone know how crazy the party became, the cops had to show up a few times to turn the ruckus down but to be honest I barely remember most of it since it remains in my head as a drunken blur except for a few images of me eating the pavement outside in the parking lot, hood surfing a moving vehicle, pole dancing a stop sign, hugging the porcelain goddess a few times, and finally passing out in Mary’s bedroom next to cute straight boy coworker whom I shall call Gordon. (For the record, Gordon, nothing happened, I think, but there was spooning involved. That much I remember. Oh and Gordon shave the five o’clock shadow! I think my neck got rugburns!)
My other coworkers were not as fortunate as they all passed out on Mary’s carpet huddled in a puddle of vomit and looking like victims of the Jonestown massacre.
The worse part was yet to come as half of us had to show up for work the next morning to open up the store including myself.
It certainly was going to be an interesting work day. As we managed to clean the residue of puke, sweaty body funk, and wrinkled clothes that we wore the night before we finally arrived at Messy’s looking like the zombies from Resident Evil. (All you needed was a first person shooter carrying bullets of Red Bull and Vodka and the rest of us would be down for the count.)
Luckily for us, that Sunday was slow and most of the crazy custys cared less if our eyes were bloodshot and that we emitted an odor of Jack Daniels and gasoline as long as somebody would ring up their crap.
Meanwhile, my coworker and spooning buddy, Gordon, had the worst of it as a wave of nausea almost struck him every half hour forcing him to regurgitate his Doritos into the trashcan in the back stockroom.
Mary and I kept popping Midol for our hangover headaches and ended up taking turns falling asleep in the back office desk.
As usual, Messy’s department managers were not to be found on the floor so we were left to own devices as many of the other hungover employees kept Mary’s wild party hush hush.
You would think custys would notice but they were just as oblivious tearing up the store and asking annoying questions so in retrospect I don’t feel guilty smelling and looking like a wino but what surprises me is how the custys didn’t say anything about any of our hungover appearance.
Epilogue: After this incident, Mary almost got evicted from her apartment but thankfully was able to salvage her relationship with her landlord. She is now happily married and living on the east coast and no longer works as a retail slave.
Gordon eventually moved on to Doomingdales (Messy’s high end company) after being offered more pay and still has yet to curb his partying ways from what I heard.
I finally left Missy’s (involuntarily but I’ll save that for another RHU post) for another big fancy company with better pay but I have calmed down considerably since then and behaving myself.
Though I still laugh about my debauched nights with Messy’s coworkers, it is a bit ironic that no one except the parties involved ever knew about the wild party that went on.
Well that was until now...