One might quickly extrapolate a few things from this blog fairly quickly. Even if you’re a casual reader who’s not preparing for a reading comprehension quiz, I think it would be pretty easy to pick up a few things. I’m tall. I’m cranky. And above all, I don’t really like people too much. This last item is something I think I make fairly clear most of the time, with body language, headphones, avoided eye contact, you know the deal. Reading over this, I kind of feel like I’m confessing some kind of disorder. Mental note, research social diseases. Anyway. I think I make it abundantly clear I’m not craving any attention. Most people get the hint. Except for one special special group.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Finding everything okay?”
“Something in particular you’re looking for?”
The parasitic work force of America ruins my life on a weekly basis. Thing is, I’m pretty capable of finding sweaters, shirts, jeans and any other casual or formalwear my heart desires allll on my own. I don’t actually need the assistance of anyone to rifle through a stack of clothing. Shocking, I know. I can even locate groceries and stuff too! (Trader Joe's employees, I’m looking at you.)
Yes, a google image search for "helpful employee" does indeed return a bootleg version of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler falling in love over a chance meeting of trail mix.
Now I know some of you might say, hey, employees are required to ask people if they need help. It’s part of their job! That’s fine, I’m not here to jam anyone up in their place of business. But when I give a clear, concise “Nope, I’m fine thanks,” I expect that to be the end of our short sweet relationship. If you can’t read the signal that I don’t want you hovering over me while I paw through items, I no longer feel the need to be nice to you. I will continue to make it crystal clear that I do not want your help. And if that makes you cry, lady from American Eagle, well that’s just tough toenails.
The “may I help you?” breed is the most common of overly talky employees, but there’s another rare group - those who are far too committed to their job, and want to chat with you, the innocent patron, about it.
“Yeah, have you seen the buy one get one free sale? People have been going CRAZY with that, but I mean - it really is such a good deal!”
“Can you believe that’s all your total comes to? That’s what happens when you shop at Trader Joes!” (actual conversation that happened to me)
I guess if you like where you work, great for you. You’re living the dream. But do you need to verbally assault your dream onto me while I’m forcing a grin and waiting for you to hand me my change? Come on, man. Gimme a break.
I can’t wait to be an old lady. There’s a point where you reach a certain age, and society just kind of says, eh, whatever. You can be a mean curmudgeon and people will just roll their eyes and chalk it up to bitterness in the twilight years. It’s a big free pass, I suppose, as a reward for having seen so much in this crazy world. When I get there, I’m going to tell all those salespeople and cashiers to leave me alone and shove it. Til then…
Livin' the dream.