I've been in retail for a long time now--too long. There are certain things that occur in retail on a daily basis that are utterly maddening and break you down like a turd in the rain.
My rant...
If you are ever cornered into eating your lunch at the shop, which unfortunately happens far too often, then you're probably familiar with this scenario: No matter what time of the day you choose to eat your lunch, be it 11am or 3pm, the split second that you take that first bite of sandwich or slurp of soup, a customer walks in. Always--it never fails. The only alternative to that is the phone ringing. It's about a 70/30 ratio in my experience, with walk-in's leading. Inevidibly, the person inturupting your only break of the day, wants to chat...a lot. Honestly, you can go two, three hours without seeing a customer walk through your door. But as soon as you decide to grab a quick bite, there they are. It's like they know. It's like they're out to ruin not only your lunch break, but your entire day--your entire existance (maybe not that bad...).
Other constant amazments in the retail relm are customers who can't seem to make it to your store between the hours of open and close. And they're pissed. Pissed because you don't open early enough or stay open late enough for their convenience. Weekly, I have customers waiting at the front door when I roll up with my coffee, half asleep still. And half the time they just want to hang out. Their only agenda is to anger me first thing in the morning.
On the other end of the day, and perhaps my greatest pet peeve, is the customer who enters the store, fully aware that we close in 2 minutes, and proceeds to take 30-60 minutes of my time. Do they buy something? I really don't care. That's because I have no motivation to sell anything. What do I care if this rude human buys something or not? All I know is that he/she couldn't make it to the store within the 9 hours that we were open. That's just poor planning on their part. But, over the years I've learned to deal with this type of person. If I'm in a good mood (which isn't often) or if I take a liking to this person--which usually stems from them apologizing profusely about their shitting timing--I just deal with it...effeciently But nine times out of ten, I tell them we're closed and what our hours are the next day...politely, of course. It still doesn't take away my fury.
And this is probably more common with working a fly fishing shop than say, a liquor store--but I'm sure other retail folk can relate: The constant barrage of questions. In the fly fishing world, people expect us to know up-to-the-minute everything about every body of water in every corner of the world. That's not much of an exageration, either. This is no joke--I had a customer enter the store yesterday and bee-line it straight to where I was standing with a completely helpless look on his face (which is VERY common). He asked about a river in a different state that I, nor the rest of my staff had never heard of. We did some research and and figured out which river it was (he had the name of the river totally wrong) and where it was. This process took us about ten minutes. After our investigation of which and where and pointing it out on a map to him, he proceeds to ask, "Do you know what they're biting on there?"
"No."
Up until ten minute ago, I'd never even heard of this river. How the fuck would I know what the fish are biting on at this mystery river seven hours away in a different state? Fucking Google it, like I just did! Helpless.
But instead of saying all of that, I just completely bullshitted him. I don't feel bad, because I'm certain that's all he wanted. He came into the store asking the ridiculous, and he received bullshit. I guess that's how it works.
I would honestly say that 95% of the customers that walk through the shop door have questions. Working at a fly shop is not just retail, it's being a help desk, an advice column, and an information center. The redundantcy can be tough to handle--it's like "Groundhog Day". Repeating myself to every person that walks in is exhausting. Maybe that's because I was never that person. I'm not saying that I'm better than these people, I'm just able to figure things out without asking strangers a hundred questions. (sidenote: as I write this paragraph, I've had two customers approach me saying, "I've got a question." I know you do...I know you do.)
Retail is a strange world. Anyone can walk through those doors--that is, unless I lock it in front of you. The other morning, as I was having a casual meeting with one of my reps, a drugged out hippie kid walked up to the store with no idea where he was. He was yelling at himself, slobbering, walking in circles, obviously out of his mind. He glanced at the door a time or two before I finally excused myself from my conversation and quickly locked the door. It was perfect--as he looked down at the ground, drooling, I clicked the lock and scurried back to the group. The nutbag then looked up and tried opening the door. Dang, it was locked. He turned away and stummbled into traffic. Kind of sad, he couldn't have been older than 25 and his brain was 100% melted.
One last beef with my current retail situation: The guys who come in every day for at least an hour. I hate them because, one: They obviously do not work. Boulder is littered with trust-funders who have no reason to hold down a 9 to 5. Money magically appears in their bank account while they're out fishing, skiing, drinking, getting high, and buying unnecessary things. And two: Because they come in every day. It's kind of funny that people with a money tree who are able to fish everyday of the week still come into my store asking for advice. I get to fish maybe one day a week...maybe. But they still insist on loitering, hanging out, not buying much, talking, talking, and talking. They don't need the money, but I do. They want to be here at the shop for shits and giggles, and I don't. They'll hang out at the shop for an hour or so, ask where they should go fishing, I feed them some bullshit to get them on their way, they fish for the rest of the day, then go spend hundreds of dollars on booze and pot afterwards. Next day, repeat. Next day, repeat. Can't blame them, I guess. (sidenote: As I write this paragraph, customer "Bill" walks through the door. It's the sixth time this week he's been in. He's in his sixties, squinty eyes, consta-smile, "Heeey, man" hippie-voice--all residual effects from years of smoking pot instead of working in the Boulder Bubble. I grit my teeth. I do not offer any loose ended conversation for him to jump on start talking my ear off. I quickly and efficiently get "Bill" out of the store before I find myself in an hour-long game of 20 Questions.)
The good parts of working in retail? Well, let's see...I get a lot of free shit. But for a jaded veteran of over ten years on the floor, that's about it. The novelty has worn off, regardless of what I'm selling. Be it cogs, sprockets, or yes--fly fishing equipment, it really just doesn't matter anymore. I still have to deal with weirdos on an hourly basis. It's still retail.
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