Hope Springs Eternal

In the minds of retail customers, there exists a magical, forbidden place where exists all manner of coveted merchandise. That perfectly-sized sweater, the right formula of dog food ... All of these exist must exist in a magical place called The Back.

A very large number of people, unable to grasp the concept that they might not be able to achieve instant gratification, begin to believe in The Back the way some people cling to the notion of reward in the afterlife, as if their faith will result in the bestowing of a harp, 27 nubile virgins, and that hard-to-find Wii game.

If you are the sort to cling to such false hope, please allow me to disavow you of the notion.

It's true that The Back exists, but it is not the place you hope for. It would be as if you made it to Heaven expecting halos and clouds, but in truth, Paradise more closely resembled an Applebee's. Not altogether the most unpleasant place you can imagine, but nowhere you'd be inclined to spend eternity, and certainly somewhere your options are limited.

While The Back does occasionally yield the object of desire -- I once delighted a woman beyond reason, for example, by locating an errant bag of confectioner's sugar -- it's mostly a letdown, occupied primarily by employees too surly to be permitted to interact with the general population. The shelves are stuffed, yes, but mostly with shit that's already available on the shelves and, more frequently, shit nobody wants. Looking for a John Tesh CD? The Back has yours. Pining for the latest top-40 album, Zhu-Zhu Pet, or this week's deeply-discounted sale item? No dice. Pouting and stomping of feet will do no good. Do not glare at your retail salesperson. She can no more make The Back hold your desired product than she can magically pull it from her own ass.

I have an alternative, though. May I introduce you to a little something called The Internet? I assure you you'll find it on The Internet. It's everything you want The Back to be: It's vast and endless, and the item you're seeking is almost certainly there, albeit intangible for the length of time it takes your favorite parcel service to bring it to you.

Plus, The Internet has porn. The Back does not.

Wait. Let me get my crystal ball.

Here now is the transcript of a phone conversation I had today with a customer. This shall be the first in an ongoing series I'll diplomatically title "Customers Say the Darnedest Things."

Customer: Do you have any Wiis in stock?
Me: Yes, we do.
Customer: Great. Hey, I'm trying to figure something out.
Me: What's that?
Customer: Which one of your stores is closer? Yours or the one in Otherville?
Me: Closer?
Customer: Yeah, closer!
Me: Closer to what, exactly, ma'am?
Customer: (exasperated sigh) Which one is closer to my HOUSE??

Putting the "Recess" Back in Recession

Why, hello. Welcome.

My name is not ExcuseMeMiss, but in a vain attempt at anonymity, that's the monicker I'll be using here. Frankly, it might as well be ExcuseMeMiss, because that is what I am called approximately forty hours a week at my job. I find it sort of funny that I am called "miss," because I am too old to be a miss, and I am someone's misses.

I'm 33 years old and am, for lack of a better term, a recession victim. About five months ago, I packed up my decade of professional experience, and with chagrin, gave myself over to a job with my local big-box retail establishment to thwart starvation caused by waning self-employment and an utter dearth of jobs available in my field here in Rustbelt, USA. I make a little more than seven dollars per hour now.

I'm starting this blog on behest of a dozen or so family and friends who insist that as long as I'm mired in retail hell, I should be writing about it. I'm going to do my best to keep this as anonymous as possible, because even though my job is low-paying and frequently awful, it's the job I have right now, and I need to keep it. To that end, if you know me and would like to comment here, I'd appreciate if you'd refrain from using my real name or the name of my employer in your remarks.

Happy to have you here!