Christmas in retail
This is my second Christmas out of working a customer facing role. If that isn’t enough of a gift already then I just don’t know what is.
Pop back in time and tell 17 year old Mollie who was smiling through the pain of folding that same god damn jegging table over and over again that it would only be 7 more years of bullshit before she is free and maybe, just maybe, she would be a better person than she is today. But hindsight is a wonderful thing and time traveling doesn’t exist.
When you’ve worked in retail, that’s when you can truly appreciate how utterly awful the human population is.
And when you’ve worked in retail at Christmas, that’s when you can truly appreciate how utterly awful the human population is with the added blow of Wham playing 50 times a day and an Elf jumper on.
Either way, retail during the festive period is no place for someone like me.
Mostly because it doesn’t take a lot to wind me up. It’s a burden and a curse. But anyway, getting so very annoyed in the blink of the eye doesn’t bode well when Heather is convinced that there are in fact 10 other sizes of sold out slippers hidden in the stock room that you just emptied and know inside out because you’ve been living in that hell hole for 60 hours so far that week.
No, Heather, I’m not going to ‘quickly go and check’. We sold out. Yes, there were loads last week but guess what, that was 7 days ago, and things have changed. Plus, I can absolutely assure you that 5 minutes off the shop floor is all I want right now but I’m still not even going to bother. Please leave me alone. I don’t want to cry in front of you and make you feel uncomfortable but just know that I will,
So, if I can suggest anything for you to make your new year’s resolution, it is to get out of whatever customer facing role you are in and find a new one.
It’s a good job you’re on a recruitment website, isn’t it?
I can confirm that working in retail (or hospitality) at Christmas is 10/10 not worth the aggro. Botox is £200 a pop and do you really want to be forking that out a couple of times a year by the age of 25 because Heather didn’t buy her slippers earlier? No, you don’t.
If you’re playing with fire this year and plan on doing all your shopping on Christmas Eve, just be a nice person. Don’t sulk because the only thing your Nan asked for has sold out and you’ve ruined her day, don’t huff when you’ve got to queue for more than 2 minutes, and absolutely do not make any ‘shame you’re at work’ comments because someone might be one away from launching a bauble at your head.
This will be my last blog of the year. Does it have a point? No, it doesn’t. Like most of the ones I’ve written in the last 12 months. 36 down and god knows how many swear words deleted. One day I’ll put them all into a book called “pointless shit Mollie wrote” and make millions.
Until then, Merry bloody Christmas.
Be a good person.
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