Note: I said that I would post last night, but I was unable to due to exhaustion. For my part time job, I worked 35 hours in 3 days. I fell asleep at 8:30.
Friday, October 14, 2011
So, I don’t like to advertise where I work in case some big wigs from the company happen upon my blog. Let’s just say that on Friday we had a release of a new phone that people were excited about, and no, I don’t work at Kyocera.
Today, I worked 14 hours, and it was 14 hours with a constant stream of people. My throat was sore by the end of the day from talking over the noise for so long.
I’m feeling fresh, everyone is excited, we’ve just gotten a pep talk from our boss. We can’t tell if we’re employees preparing to sell phones, or soldiers preparing to storm the beaches of Normandy. I’ve sold one phone previous to this, and there are a lot more steps than selling any other item. It’s like I have a gun that’s jammed and I have until I reach dry land to fix it. The first customer I have, I screw up the process, and accidentally give her a new phone number. Dang it. No one had shown me how to not do that. I take her to a rep who is there from her phone carrier, after waiting in line for three hours, the woman has to now be at the store for a long time. The Germans shot me, but it only grazed my leg.
I’m feeling good that I put extra insoles in my shoes and that I wore my running shoes for extra cushioning. I’m rolling through some good transactions, the customers seem to be under the impression that I know what I’m doing. I’ve made it up the cliff, but the battle still rages.
I get a 15 minute break, that was the highlight. Tom Hanks shares some of his rations with me.
The line is steady, but not as bad as it has been in the past. Uh oh, the Germans have cut our communications lines. The server is overloaded and we have lost all connectivity. We stop taking new customers, and we all just have to wait. Luckily, I’m with a very patient guy who works in software sales. Normally, my rule of thumb at the store is, let someone else approach customers who are young, and/or hip, and/or well dressed, chances are they will know more about our products than me. I will gladly take customers who are elderly and/or a young child (who doesn’t resemble Neil Patrick Harris), and/or don’t speak English as a first language, and/or drunk, chances are I will know more than them, or in the case of the last two, I can blame things on communication issues. To summarize: Bad- Ryan Gosling. Good-Sophia Loren.
I’m still with the software salesman, he’s a young guy, and very understanding of the wait. It’s finally working, and he shows me his ID as he pays, and I say, “Oh, you look young in this picture.” This is something I can only say to a young guy. However, California must let people keep their license pictures forever because the picture almost always looks like a daughter of the woman I am helping. We’re marching toward Paris.
Lunch. Like the Germans and Americans classically did on Christmas during WWI, I took a break and got to sit and eat. Today, the company paid for our lunches, which is a huge victory. I walked with a couple of guys over to the break room. On the way there they wanted to check out the line to see if there were any “slimmies,” which apparently means “good looking girls” in a vernacular that I don’t speak. I also learned about “boo-thang” and some other one I don’t remember.
I’m reinvigorated since I have given my body some nourishment. Bring on the line, I’m feeling good, the server is working, we’re rolling.
I’m helping a nice gay couple, although, I couldn’t quite tell if they were only together for the sake of a family plan. I will remain with them for 3 and a half hours. We have password problems, ID problems, and every other glitchy thing you can imagine. Although, I do get to talk to them for a long time. Get this, one of them is a flight attendant for Hawaiian Airlines-awesome, the other owns a traveling zoo-what?-super awesome.
I’m pretty sure that my left foot is gangrenous. I’m getting fired at left and right. I can’t think straight anymore, it’s getting harder to form sentences. I soldier on. I have 20 minutes left. When I’m approaching a customer with that little time left I’m just thinking to myself, “Please don’t be a crazy person, please don’t be a crazy person.”
Yep, it’s a crazy person.
She has a lot of questions involving a lot of things I don’t know about. I tell her that I will have to find someone else to help, so I run around to other people getting pinged around the store like a pinball machine. I can’t find anyone, and the woman is getting more upset at me. I’m getting desperate. One last guy hears my cries as I lay on the battlefield bleeding. He walks over and calmly helps her.
I don’t know who that soldier was, maybe I’ll never see him again. The last I saw was him talking to her when I walked by him after I clocked out. For all I know, that soldier may have perished that day. I’m not a hero, he is. I’m just here to tell his story. I made it out, while he is the one who paid the ultimate sacrifice that day, he helped a crazy person after the store was closed.
I walked out of the store and thrust my arms to the sky. It was truly V-E Day, Victory in Electronics Day.
I kissed a random French girl who walked by. She was surprised, I hadn’t explained the analogy to her yet.