Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Crappy Job #2: Payless

I'm on a mission to decide if all of my prior jobs have been horribly flawed or if I just don't like working.  In a previous post, I reminisced about being a waitress.  Today, I’m tackling the fun-filled summer I spent working in retail.  Payless ShoeSource, to be exact.

Don’t ask me why I wanted to work in a shoe store.  Having inherited my mother’s freakishly large feet, shopping for shoes ranks somewhere between getting a root canal and filing my tax return on the list of things I enjoy.  At the time of my employment, Payless was the only store in a 50-mile radius that carried my size, and the selection was terrible.  Think elderly churchgoer.  I would’ve looked just as stylish had I duct-taped the shoe boxes to my feet.

Interesting Fact of the Day: My high heel is exactly the size of a standard wine bottle.

Anyway, here is my assessment of working at Payless ShoeSource...

  • Using my discount, I was able to save a whopping 75-cents on my oversized high heels.  
  • I managed to amuse myself by channeling Al Bundy from Married with Children.  “I sell shoes.  Envy me.”
  • Big corporations love annoying procedures and unnecessary paperwork.  I had to take a drug test, fill out one of those Briggs-Meyer personality profiles, and undergo formal training, all for the humiliation of working at the local mall.  As a testament to their lengthy screening process, I was offered ecstasy by another sales associate on my first day of work.
  • Participation in the employee suggestive selling competition was mandatory.  I got stuck promoting deodorizing shoe balls to smelly-footed customers and easily secured last place.
  • I had planned to use this opportunity to meet other fabulous women with size 12 feet, but the only regular customer who purchased shoes in my size was a cross-dressing man.
  • I quickly discovered that most adults are too lazy or too dumb to put a shoe back where it belongs.  They prefer to cram it into the wrong box, possibly in a different aisle.  Um, yeah, thanks for making my minimum-wage job more challenging.

    That wine bottle is calling my name.  Next time, I will reflect on my time spent as a gas station attendant.

    1 comment:

    1. This one really made me laugh. I think it was the comparison between your shoe size and a standard wine bottle. Thanks.