“THAT LOOKS GOOD ON YOU–YOU SHOULD BUY IT!”

By Kathryn McLeod

Each issue of Galaxy Brain will contain one chapter of Kathryn McLeod’s fantastic book, ” THAT LOOKS GOOD ON YOU–YOU SHOULD BUY IT! This is the third installment:

Chapter Three

Hire Me, I’ll Do

“The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because they are generally the same people.” G.K. Chesterton

“Phuck u satan. Phuck right off.” Rihanna

By the time I found Chestertons again, there was no co-manager Esther to greet me. Instead, there was a woman who looked like she was probably the manager-manager, a woman whose soul had long since left her body in search of warmth. She was standing in the doorway, glaring at the wall on the other side of the hall advertising another store “Coming Soon”.

“Hi, are you Gwen? I’m Katie. So, yeah, the lady yesterday-”

“Esther.”

“Hunh?”

“Esther. She’s my co-manager. Lindsay’s my assistant manager. You met Esther yesterday because Lindsay phoned in sick yesterday. Again. So Esther had to come in. It was her day off. That’s Lindsay over there leaning on the counter. No, now she’s blowing on her nails. I told her to bring out the new Nantuckets in pink and grey paisley from the back <checks watch> over two minutes ago now. It’s amazing how she can keep herself busy not working.”

I looked over at the counter to see a young woman leaning on it, blowing her nails, and wearing what looked to be her grandmother’s clothes, which a quick glance around the store told me were most likely purchased from Chestertons.

Lindsay looked up, made eye contact, glanced down at my boots, cleverly tucked under my pant legs, looked up, made eye contact again. Smirked. I nodded back. We were solid.

This was not good already. I get suckered into questionable relationships very easily, very easily. Even worse for Lindsay, I was to become her go-to for professional advice, her work mom, which pretty much tells you everything you need to know about Lindsay’s past, present, and future.

But Lindsay will still get her own chapter, don’t you worry. She has to, she’s the perpetrator of the scam that marked the beginning of the middle of the end for me at Chestertons.

Oh, oops – spoiler alert.

Anyway, then, as happens at some point in every job interview I’ve ever had, unless it involves French, I started nervous babbling, which, once started, is the only babbling I’m capable of doing.

“Ugh, my partner? Steverino? Worked at McDonalds. His boss would say, ‘Ya got time to lean, ya got time to clean’. Then one night he got hit by a truck in the parking lot while he was leaning over his car cleaning bird poop off the windshield. Not Steverino, his boss. He lived, but he got fired because he had to be in traction for a while. The next day Steverino was promoted to manager. Ironic, eh? Right, Esther. Esther told me to bring my resume in today. So I did but as you can see I don’t have any experience in retail, which you probably want. I mean, even your sign said experience necessary. My last job was as a policy analyst at Environment Canada, not that I had any experience being a policy analyst. But I got that job through a friend of a friend once removed. They were desperate because the person I was replacing had to go for chemotherapy. Colon cancer. I’d never have got it if I’d had to apply for it like a normal person. The job, not colon cancer. I don’t have colon cancer. I hope. Although I haven’t been to the doctor in about three years. Jesus Christ. I hope I don’t have colon cancer.”

Fortunately/unfortunately, I’d underestimated Gwen’s desperation.

“Oh good, it says here you’re a team player!”

“Sure, if you count volunteering to take the cubicle beside Pierre, a compulsive talker. He used to be a physics professor but something went wrong with the old pumpkin I guess and he ended up working as a CR-5 in the government. That’s more or less a file clerk, although a file clerk in the government, which starts at $45K. I think. Cripes, that’s almost what I was making on EI after I got laid off. I made more money on EI than I’d ever made in my life, before I got the job as a policy analyst, I mean. Best money I ever made, ever will make from the looks of it. So yeah, nobody else wanted to work beside Pierre because he was French and they were all French, my team, and they couldn’t concentrate with him talking all the time. But I didn’t know what he was saying, although I have my Bs, so it didn’t bother me. I mean, I knew what he was saying, it just didn’t bother me that he was saying it. I didn’t have much to do anyway. I’m still not sure why I was hired. I have my Bs, though. You can see them there in bold on my resume.”

“Great! We’re a team! And it says here you worked independently, too!”

“I guess, but only because my supervisor was away on stress leave. And I wasn’t about to volunteer to mentor a student because, you know, they don’t really get it that we’re all just splinters in the cogs of a great big clunky wheel that goes ‘round and ‘round and ‘round then back ‘round and ‘round and ‘round. That’s sort of a cumbersome analogy. I don’t normally talk like this. Students, what’s up with mentoring, anyway? Cripes, Seinfeld much, Katie? But seriously, I was like, didn’t you graduate with a degree in public administration? Tell ME what we’re supposed to be doing. I’ve got a degree in… English? and spend my day trying to explain expressions like ‘wtf?’ and ‘rotflmao’ to middle-aged French people. No one understands anybody else in government. What a shit show. Taxes! Tell me about it.”

“Great! We work independently, too! And we have students! I’ll show you how to get yourself set up in our system and put you on the schedule! You’ll start out as support and then we’ll make you a sales associate! But first I’ll have you watch our “Welcome to Chestertons” video and then complete the try-on-a-thon! Awesome! French!”

The exclamation marks are because when Gwen faked enthusiasm, which was the only way she could do enthusiasm after twenty-five years in retail, her voice would go up an octave and she’d project it up over your head and out into the hallway, where it would ricochet off the boards advertising the ‘Coming Soon!’ competition, and back into dowdy old Chestertons.

Everything else was directed at no one in particular and delivered out of the side of her mouth in a kind of mutter, as she headed to the back to do whatever it was she was always heading to the back to do. 

Fortunately, I was ushered into the stockroom to view “Welcome to Chestertons” before I could tell Gwen about the time I accidentally sent a department wide email intended for Steverino. 

“Right, down tools, screw the environment. AND taxpayers. The Deputy Minister is judging Halloween costumes today and I am soooooo going to win this lame-ass bull-shite contest. None of these loooosers even come close to my Zombie Baby Jesus costume. And I decided to swaddle myself in lights after all so I can plug myself in – haha – I mean turn myself on, baby! Booyah!”

Dammit, scientists – where’s my selective memory eraser!?

Well, glory be, a clothing store stockroom. Stacks and racks of ladieswear, piled and hung, and in the far corner, a little counter with a mini microwave on top, a wee fridge underneath, and a teeny tiny computer for viewing “Welcome to Chestertons”.

It was exactly like I’d always imagined a clothing store stockroom to be, except much bigger, unless it just seemed bigger because of the hobbit corner.

Oh, and by the way, you’re probably wondering if I won the Halloween contest. No, no I didn’t. But I also didn’t get fired because, thankfully, there are CR-5s named Pierre who know how to recall department wide emails.

Oh, and did you know that it’s not temperature that causes trees to drop their leaves in the fall, that it’s the light changing? Well it’s a fact, a Pierre fact. So take that, climate change, because everything isn’t about you.

Anyway, as I would find out soon enough, the hobbit corner was where we took our breaks, cancelled for a while when Gwen found out that the Ontario labour code allows employers to deny breaks until after four hours of work, which explains why four hours was the standard shift length at Chestertons.

Esther was long gone by then, a day in retail being like 1000 days anywhere else, and Arlene, who’d been hired to replace her (although not really) was in the startlingly brief grace period she enjoyed before Chestertons started a constructive dismissal campaign against her that went on until she quit several months later.

I was in the back getting ready for my shift the time I overheard Gwen tell Arlene that we were losing our breaks, an overhearing that seemed pretty deliberate since they were standing right beside where I was sitting.

Gwen: “Good news, Arlene, I don’t have to give sales associates breaks anymore. I was on a conference call with Rita (regional sales manager/dead ringer for Patti or Selma of The Simpsons) and I mentioned that it was getting harder to give breaks with fewer staff scheduled because of wage costs, and she broke in and said no breaks until after four hours and no five hour shifts just six with a half hour unpaid lunch after five. No breaks for four hours, Gwen, she said. Cut out the breaks right now.”

Arlene: “Holy sh-itake with gorgonzola on top, Gwen, four hours and no break is a long time to be on your feet.”

Gwen: “Or six with a half hour unpaid lunch after five. But just for Anna and Ruth, because of the grandfathering. I think I told you about that when you started? Anna and Ruth were full-time with benefits but then Chestertons changed its business plan? Now they’re not, although they still get more hours than the other girls. It was thirty but it’s going down to twenty-four. Don’t mention that last part to anybody, especially Anna or Ruth.”

Arlene: “Jee-umpers chrysanthemums, Gwen. Maybe when you tell the girls don’t start with ‘good news’.”

It’s a long time to be on your feet without a break, four hours. Fortunately, not long after Gwen’s conference call with Rita, the government of Ontario raised the minimum wage by 25 cents/hour and Chestertons cut our shifts to 3 3/4 hours to make up for it.

If your barking dawgs don’t get you, the corporate nickel and diming surely will.

But then there was the HUGS campaign and a promotion to sell off a bunch of slippers with the slogan, “Women work too hard not to take a break in our faux sheepskin slippers!” And when the irony of that was pointed out at a mandatory after hours Sunday night staff meeting, with the add-in from Arlene that sales associates were going to the back for inventory too funnicky many times (so we could lean on the stacks) we got 1/3 of our previous break back, so five minutes.

I forget what HUGS stood for – Hope Ugly Garments Sell?

After that the 3 ¾ hour shifts went back up to four, and then we started getting five hour shifts, too, and even though I always took a fifteen minute break, it was tricky because it usually meant leaving someone else alone on the floor, which we weren’t supposed to do. But then I stopped caring about what we weren’t supposed to do and it stopped being tricky.

Once, Gwen scheduled me for a three hour shift. It was a year or so in, and I’d never been sent home early like the university girls often were, so I’d just assumed she understood that I had a shift length threshold below which working at Chestertons wasn’t worth it to me.

“So Gwen, I notice I’m on the schedule to work a three hour shift.”

“Yes, that’s right, Katie. I have to balance wage costs with sales.”

“Okay, well I have to balance whether it’s worth it for me to work here or not, and a three hour shift isn’t. Just so you know for the next time you make up the schedule.”

(She gave me the cold shoulder for a while, which was just different enough from when she wasn’t giving me the cold shoulder for me to notice that she was giving me the cold shoulder, but she never gave me a three hour shift again. Or the cold shoulder. I don’t think. It was hard to tell with Gwen because of the no soul thing.)

But back to “Welcome to Chestertons”.

The video begins with a look back to the late ‘40s when Eleanor Chesterton, a Massachusetts socialite, felt moved to do something for the women of America who had suffered through the war years in drab and unfeminine uniforms, running the factories of the nation while their future husbands were overseas fighting the Nazis. So when their future husbands returned home to take back their workplaces, Eleanor decided that what the women of America needed most was a line of ladieswear to help them marry up the social ladder so that they’d never have to assemble a doohickey (for a wage) again. And because Eleanor valued consistency of style, each new fashion season would feature a fresh collection of ladieswear indistinguishable from the previous season’s fresh collection of ladieswear, save for the appearance of a new faux front pocket on a luncheon suit or a second row of buttons added to a pair of Sunday gloves.

In short, Chestertons was the best thing to happen to American women – and now Canadian women, too! – since cigarette holders and charity balls.

Oh and by the way, the video is narrated by the head of corporate communications, a woman who couldn’t have been WASPier if she was hovering over a glass of white wine at a Republican garden party.

Towards the end of the video we find out that Chestertons has changed hands many times since Eleanor Chesterton sold it decades ago, and is now owned by a private equity firm – a private equity firm with so little connection to the sales floor that at one point Chestertons had a metre high stack of micro mini plaid shorts for sale to customers averaging in age from varicose veins to walkers.

That last part isn’t in the video.

Then Waspy McWasperson leaves off the historical fiction and shifts over to part two of “Welcome to Chestertons” which is called “The Art of the Sale”. She takes the new hire through her paces, from the customer entering Chestertons, to the new hire engaging her in the shopping experience by asking an open ended question, to the new hire being everywhere the customer is and isn’t, because, of course, there are other customers in the store, too, and the front, sides, and back of the store must all be covered. Oh, and the fitting rooms. And the stockroom because every new hire should be focused on pushing whatever needs moving.

Also, Waspy doesn’t actually say it but it’s pretty clear what she means, which is that, while every customer is a potential sale, every customer is also a potential thief.

So cover the entire store while making sure you get her into the fitting rooms so you can sell that outfit. Think wardrobing. And remember, accessorize! Because every outfit can benefit by adding one – or more! – Chestertons fabulous and affordable (if you use money as kindling) accessories to it. Then you, the new hire, graciously steer your customer over to the cash which awaits her credit/debit/cheque/cash, and the opportunity to get her name, phone number, address, email, and birth month.

Getting her name, phone number, address, and email – especially her email – was considered essential to the sale. You do this by selling her on the points card, which gives her 10% off her account opening purchase, and, because Chestertons has her email, she’ll be informed about all the upcoming promotions.

I would shake my head no when asking a customer if she’d like to give Chestertons her email, a question I only asked if Gwen was within earshot, but you’d be surprised by how many women would give it to me anyway.

Every once in a while a customer would catch on to my head shaking “no” and say, “no thanks”, shaking her head in silent conspiracy with me. But since I’d only ask when Gwen was within earshot, if Gwen heard a customer say “no thanks”, and she had hearing like a bat, she’d interject, “You’ll get notified about our upcoming promotions if you give us your email!” And the customer would look at me, betrayed, as if my intent had been to prevent her from being informed of upcoming promotions, and not save her from having her inbox flooded with advertising from Chestertons.

We’d ask for her birth month because on her birth day she was supposed to get 10% off her purchase. When customers would ask, “Will I get 10% off my purchase again if I come in tomorrow because it’s still my birth month?” I’d answer with something like, “Uhh, I guess? Sure? Maybe? No? Yes? I don’t know? Try it! Tomorrow, though, because I’m not working tomorrow. Oh… Did I say that out loud? If I did, pretend I didn’t. I’m new. Still. Okay, you’re still standing here. Hmm, let me ask someone who’s been here a while and doesn’t care about anything anymore except meeting the store’s sales targets. Gwen?”

“Um humh.”

“Um humh, you heard me? Or um humh she does?”

“Just, Katie, when a customer asks a question, be positive. Did you watch the HUGS video? How Unique Gifts Sell?”

“Um humh.”

“No, you haven’t crossed out your name on my list. Okay, if we’re not too busy today take your break and watch the HUGS video, and then cross your name off the list.”

All of which is to say that the birthday discount is only supposed to be given to a customer once during her birth month, but if a customer wants to shop every day of her birthday month at Chestertons to get 10% off the hugely inflated cost of her purchases, as far as Chestertons is concerned, it’s “Welcome to Chestertons daily birthday girl!”

A deal for her is always a better deal for Chestertons.

Meanwhile, Anna, who was Chestertons top seller in North America for many years, or so the legend goes, was rewarded for her exemplary service by having her full-time job with benefits reduced to 30 hours per week without benefits.

After that she just pretended to watch the new promotion videos.

“They’re all the same. Sell more stuff.”

And she could always be counted on to make it awkward at our mandatory staff meetings, especially when we had special guest stars from Chestertons HQ.

“Chinese ladies just buy on sale – how are we supposed to make our goals?”

“Muslim ladies just use our bathroom – how are we supposed to make our goals?”

“Our customers are too fat for the clothes – how are we supposed to make our goals?”

What was Anna’s sales technique that made her a top seller for many years, you ask?

“That looks good on you. You should buy it.” delivered in a tone that brought to mind a flock of seagulls fighting over a ham sandwich in a beachside parking lot.

But she came by her sales skills honestly(ish) having grown up in Portugal working in her father’s store. She could make conversation with anyone about anything, from the weather in Ottawa to the weather in Portugal. She was quite simply amazing at sales. Being rebuffed by a customer wanting to be left alone always – always – led to Gloria Swanson leaving Chestertons with a suit and three shirts.

“Anna, how do you do it? I don’t understand. That woman practically spit a circle around herself to keep you away from her, and you still managed to sell her a suit and three shirts.”

“Some people they have a bad mood because they don’t like to spend money. But if they come in here I know they need a help. A suit is a help. You can wear a suit every day. It’s like a uniform, a suit. We have the pants and then we have the jacket to match. That’s why we call it a suit. Sometimes a skirt, but our customers don’t have the right legs. They need the pants. What in Jesu’s name we’re supposed to do with those plaid shorts like underwear? ”

“Yeah but waving her arms around like a windmill with ‘roid rage when you asked her if there was anything you could help her with?”

“That just drops off my front and I say very well, madam. Always the same like my father did. Very well, madam. Some people they like to talk. Some people they like to have a bad mood. But not really because it’s just that they have to buy a suit. So I tell them very well, madam, let me direct you to our suits and then you can take all the time you need. Then I tell them the promotions because everybody likes to know the promotions. It’s a good deal. A suit would look good on you, you should buy one.”

“Me? Well I hardly- I mean, a suit- Really? Me? Do you think I’d look good in a suit?”

“Yes, just what you said. You could wear a suit to work every day and then you wouldn’t have so much trouble with your clothes like today. You need just navy blue. A navy blue suit and then you put maybe three different shirts on it. For you it has to be one pink, one light blue and one white like we have in your size right here.”

“Hm, I wouldn’t mind having a suit. Then I wouldn’t have so much trouble with my clothes. Like today.”

“Go try on the suit in the 2Petite, navy, heritage fit in the pants. We’re not busy. I’ll cover the front while you try on. We don’t need to cover the sides and back. Just the front. Gwen says the whole store because she has to pretend we can do loss prevention. Don’t worry about the sides and back. We always cover the front in case that Gwen boss, Rita, comes here. You know, that lady with the man voice. Go try on a suit. It will look good on you.”

And when I came out of the dressing room Anna said, “See? It’s just like I always say. That looks good on you, you should buy it.” It was like magic, and thrift shopping me was suddenly born to have a suit from Chestertons.

Except the pants were cutting into my vagina and the jacket pinched my armpits.

Also, even with my discount on new items it would have cost Steverino food for a month, so I made a mental note to check out the suits at the thrift shop, instead. If you’re 5’5” and 110 lbs you can find lots of quality castoffs from women 5’5” and anywhere from 115 lbs on up when they realize that, to fit into a suit some other Anna sold them, they’d have to give up wine.

I gave up wine so I can say that. And when I smoke my friend’s medicinal marijuana after doing yoga, which I have simplified into stretching out on a yoga mat, I make sure I have a proper meal first, so I don’t replace the inner peace in my core with bloat from eating a bag of chips crushed into a bowl of ice cream.

Although sometimes I forget to do that so I keep a bag of chips and a container of ice cream handy. I make my own ice cream, though, by whipping a pint of cream, stirring in a can of sweetened condensed milk, and adding a bag of frozen raspberries shmushed with a rolling pin into raspberry bits, so it’s practically health food.

If you get nothing else from this book, it was worth it just for that ice cream recipe. You don’t even need an ice cream maker. Just put it in the freezer of your fridge, stir it after a few hours to keep the raspberries from settling to the bottom and voila – ready for your chips to be crushed in after a few hoots of your friend’s medicinal marijuana – if – you neglect to make a proper meal first.

But back to “Welcome to Chestertons”.

The point of the video was this: Do whatever passes for legal (in retail, so whatever) to make a sale. If the customer is wavering, remind her of the 90-day return policy. Chances are she’ll err on the side of buying it, and then err again by not returning it. Or err even more by returning it, thereby increasing the odds of her buying something else, and then something else again. Because the more times you can get a customer into the store, the more opportunities you have to make a sale for Chestertons.

It was a fun challenge for Anna, or Ruth, another 25-year veteran of Chestertons, to upsell a returner because, “It would be a shame to have come all the way back to Chestertons just to return something. How fun is that? No fun at all. What you want is a different colour/size – AND – oh, wow, how about a pair of micro mini plaid shorts for 30% off!”

“Welcome to Chestertons” also addressed the bogeyman of retail – theft. Except instead of calling it theft, it called it loss prevention, thereby turning a problem for Chestertons into a problem for sales associates.

Sure, the sales associate is engaging the customer to close the sale, but also to stop her from stealing. Except, several meetings and videos later, I still wasn’t clear on how a sales associate was supposed to stop a customer from stealing. And the reason for that is probably because Chestertons wasn’t clear on how to stop a customer from stealing, either.

For instance:

1. There were no theft tags in the clothes;
2. Customers could bring any number of purses, shopping bags, suitcases into the fitting rooms, as well as any number of items to try on;
3. No one was ever specifically assigned to monitor fitting rooms;
4. There was never enough staff scheduled to cover all sections of the store – with terrible sight lines;
5. Every thief in Ottawa knew that between 5-6 on Saturday (later 6-7) and 4-5 on Sunday (later 5-6) there were only two people working and one of them was doing garbage detail, sweeping, and restocking the bathroom. The other was on cash, busy processing paying customers. This was also the case most evenings and mornings during the off season – from January through to mid-November.

The video was over and Gwen was still out in the store but while I was waiting for her to return a couple of the university girls came in to get ready for their shifts, a process that involved putting on make-up and changing out of their street clothes and into clothes meant for women at least twice their ages and a thousand times their incomes.

“Hi, I’m Emily. Are you going to be working here over Christmas? Don’t expect to stay on because we’re not getting all the hours we were promised so Gwen’s not going to hire you, too. She says 20 to 25 but it’s more like 15. Ten if you don’t make your goals. You’ll be support at first but then you’ll have goals. Have you met Eva yet? She’s a real bitch and she’s friends with Gwen. Don’t trust her. Or Anna. Anna tells Gwen everything. Esther’s great but she’s a total micro-manager, I’d like to shove that clipboard up her ass. Eva will go on and on about how she doesn’t have to work here, she’s just doing it for fun money, but then she’ll steal all your customers so she can get more hours. Everybody hates her. Have you met TJ? Oh my God, there she is. Don’t tell her I said anything, she’s so angry, like, all the time. Ruth is okay. You can trust Ruth. She doesn’t gossip, though, so boring. Don’t ask me about The Ashleys. They never stay anyway. Right now there’s Ashley #1, Ashley #2, and Ashley #3. It’s crazy. Don’t even bother learning their names, they’ll be gone in a month. What’s your name? It’s not Ashley is it? No, I guess you’re too old to be an Ashley. Gladys? Kidding. I’m bi-sexual. It’s a secret, though, so don’t tell anybody. I don’t want to deal with other people’s judgments about my sexuality. It’s nobody’s business. Are you gay? You seem gay. It’s okay if you are. I want to talk to you later about this girl I’m seeing, Bianca. We broke up but we’re still seeing each other, as friends, though. It’s not going to work, is it? Lindsay says it won’t but she’s like, oh my god, skank on wheels. It’s hard because my family’s from India. They think I’m going to school but I’m working here. Do you have kids? I mean, like adult kids? Are any of them gay?”

“Yes, I have three. I don’t know if any of them are gay. They don’t seem to date anybody. My name’s Katie. I’m just waiting for Gwen to come back and get me for the try-on-a-thon. And I’m not gay. NOT that there’s anything wrong-”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. The try-on-a-thon is so much fun. But don’t buy anything. You don’t have to, you know. Gwen will act like you do, but you don’t. They can’t make you buy anything. Oh hi, TJ. What’s up? Who are you angry at today? Kidding. Lol.”

“Ugh, my sister. She’s a total bridezilla about her stupid wedding. She made my dad cry. He’s like, Jasmine, this wedding, you’re killing me. It’s like you’re Kardashian. And my sister’s like, you owe me the best wedding you can afford. My mom won’t come out of her room now. So glad I live here in Ottawa and not back in Brampton. My sister’s like, TJ you can’t bring Mohammed. He’ll ruin the pictures. Hey, are you the new person? Don’t work here. It sucks. Seriously. We don’t get enough hours as it is. Eva’s a bitch. Don’t tell her anything. Or Anna.”

“Well, I think I’ve been hired? I’m supposed to do the try-on-a-thon next?”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. The try-on-a-thon. Don’t buy anything. Seriously. I’ll cut you if you buy anything. Kidding. No I’m not. Everything pills after one wash. The old lady customers all say the quality has gone down. Oops. Sorry. Older lady customers. We’re supposed to pretend the clothes are made in the U.S. but they’re all made in China. It’s like they never look at the tag. Ugh. I hate our customers. They’re so ignorant. They don’t care about anything. I’m going for a job interview later. It’s with the Conservatives. Douche bags. I’m going to take it if I get, though. Rat phuck them from inside. I’m taking political science and economics. Have you ever worked retail before?”

“No, actually, I was laid off from the government last year-”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I want a job in government! That sucks, man. Seriously. You should go back to government. No, get me a job in government. Do you have contacts still? Retail sucks. You’re gonna hate it. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to ask my dad about the labour code after my sister’s stupid wedding. He has a business. Every time I tell him about this place he says to quit, though. No loyalty, he says. He’s like, TJ, stop being so stupid. No loyalty. It’s business, not family. Then he starts in about my sister. She never used to be like this. It’s like she’s possessed. Sikhs are so gossipy, too. Everybody’s talking about what’s going on in our family right now. Like they don’t have the same dumbass shit going on in theirs. And I have to wear this thing on my head. The dress is nice, though. I’m totally bringing Mohammed. He’ll ruin the pictures. Get him to go full on jihadi. Don’t get sucked into any of Lindsay’s drama. She’s cool to work with but she’s messed up big-time. A guy came into the store the other day looking for her. I’m pretty sure she was going to get served. She’s in trouble with some dudes. Money shit.”

And then Gwen was back, announced by the set of Christmas bells I found out later had been put up by Tj to alert anyone in the staff/stockroom that someone was coming and that someone could always be the someone everyone else was talking about.

“Hi girls. Is it time to punch in? Oh, a couple of minutes. Go stand by the cash now because I don’t want to have to do it manually, okay? Katie, you have three minutes on either side of your scheduled start time to punch in, but you can punch out any time. There will be a yellow exclamation point on the electronic schedule, though, for punching out at times later than scheduled. Sometimes I send you home early if we’re not busy, sometimes I need you to stay later if we are. What did you think of ‘Welcome to Chestertons’? Isn’t Eleanor Chesterton an amazing woman? I believe she’s still alive. There’s even a Chestertons in London, England now. And I just love how they break it down, from the customer, I mean, client, walking through the iconic red door to leaving the store with just what she wants. Did you notice our latest HEART story on the bulletin board? Eva serviced a customer, I mean, client, and then sent her a thank you note and the customer, I mean, client, was so surprised she contacted head office. She was a little concerned that we had her address but head office assured her that Eva had just made a note of it when she rang up the sale so she could send her a thank you card. Our customers, I mean, clients, have points cards. That’s part of your job, to encourage her – when I say her, I mean, customer, I mean, client – to get a points card. We’re calling our customers clients now. And especially her email because that’s how Chestertons can make her feel like she’s special by sending her updates about all our promotions and special events like when brand moment – that’s the new collection – is on the floor. Get her phone number, name, address, and birth month because she gets 10 percent off on her birthday. But isn’t the video amazing? And I love all the historical references. Eleanor Chesterton was quite a philanthropist, Katie. Every year we give clothes that don’t sell here to the outlets for sale at reduced prices. She was a great believer in every woman being able to afford the Chestertons brand.”

“Yeah, great, upscale fashions for unemployed women.”

“Oh, I know. It’s so rewarding. And feminist.”

“Yes, that’s the word, rewarding.”

“You can go now, Katie, and do the try-on-a-thon later. Normally you’d have to punch out at the cash but I haven’t given you a password yet so I have to do it manually.”

Awesome. I’d worked a shift that almost canceled out bus fare and the emergency muffin and coffee I purchased at one of the mall’s better coffee chains.

“Speaking of cash, I’ve never worked on a register before so I assume I’ll get some training-”

“No Katie, I’m just going to throw you on cash and expect you to know everything. Of course you’ll get training. Chestertons wants you to succeed at being the best HER – that’s Hospitality Engagement Reward – you can be.”

For the record, I never did get training on how to use the cash register. What I got was the university girls showing me how to ring up sales by doing it under their employee numbers. So for two weeks while I had goals and was on cash I had no sales at all. But since having no sales at all had zero effect on how many hours I was scheduled to work, I quickly put two and two together to realize that sales goals were secondary to being available to work when university girls phoned in sick with hangovers, which they did quite frequently.

Of course, I didn’t get training in how to be a policy analyst at Environment Canada, either. What I got was a stack of files containing backlogs of letters from the Standing Joint Committee for the Scrutiny of Regulations (SJCSR) taking issue with the many discrepancies between English and French language versions of Environment Canada regulations. They sat there staring back at me for a good three weeks (the files, not the SJCSR) while I panicked about how over my head the rest of the job, the one beyond the stack of files, must be.

Finally, a supervisor, not mine but somebody’s, took it upon himself to explain the importance of timeliness in getting back to the SJCSR with an acknowledgement of receipt of their latest letter. This, he explained, bought the department another three months before the SJCSR would contact it again, during which time my supervisor might be back from stress leave to explain what the hell we were supposed to do about complaints from the SJCSR. And I don’t want to alarm you, but within just a few incredibly long clock-watching months, I was training the entire department, all of Environment Canada, in how to deal with letters from the SJCSR, which is to buy time between letters from the SJCSR with letters to the SJCSR acknowledging the receipt of letters from the SJCSR.

Eventually, I helped coordinate the development of a regulatory amendment to address SJCSR concerns with regard to discrepancies between the English and French versions of three regulations involving two words.

Or was that two regulations involving three words.

Oh never mind what I can’t remember doing at Environment Canada, you can’t possibly still be reading.