Syd Editorial: For Anyone Who Has Ever Worked Retail


As is the same with many students who have to fund their masochistic lifestyle of binge eating Mr. Noodle to save money for partying and other things more important than nutritious food, I have a job, during the school year. I know, hard to believe, but as is the life of an ArtSci, I can somewhat manage to find time between naps and not attending class to make some dough, bake some cookies, and go to work. 
I work in the wonderful world of retail, and no, I won’t tell you where exactly, creeper. I will say this: retail is not for the weak, the faint-hearted, or kleptomaniacs. Because the general populace of Planet Earth are kind of dicks, whether they mean it or not, retail can kind of suck. Retail is most simply put, a constant balance between cleaning up after other people and trying to get them to buy things they almost certainly don’t need, and yet there are still a disproportionate amount of idiotic customers. 
There are a wide variety of customers, and a lot of the time they prefer to be left alone, which is awesome, but at least once a shift you get a crazy. Someone who leaves everything inside-out and on the floor in the changeroom. Someone who demands you lower the price an insane amount because they don’t feel like paying full price. Someone who treats you like their psychiatrist. No, I don’t need to hear about your irregular period, Susan, and I’m sure whatever bit your dog didn’t have rabies, all dogs foam at the mouth sometimes. 
The biggest lie in retail is, without a doubt, ‘the customer is always right’. In reality, the customer is maybe like, 5.12% right, and even then they probably still aren’t even talking to the right person. Usually the best thing to do is direct them to the manager, then you don’t have to deal with it. Or sometimes you can pretend to be the manager, giving you a false sense of entitlement and reminding yourself that school is important, and no that bitch cannot have a free refill, shit ain’t free.  
Perhaps the worst part about retail, aside from snotty customers, is said customers literally snotty children. They somehow manage to get their grimy hands up in everyone’s business, getting their mucky paw prints on allll of the merchandise. Children are like tiny hurricanes, and their shitty parents couldn’t care less, all they want to know is how much the dumb t-shirt they are buying will be, like everything in the store doesn’t have a price tag. “It’s $38 Dan, chill the fuck out, watch your damn kids or get the hell out.”