What happened?
I thought we were a team.
Today I was 50% of the team.
My counterpart . . . BJ. (FML)
By lunch time (4:00) he once again lived up to his name.
A flat tire is a hurdle unto itself, on bicycle even more-so.
Everyone who was off had their reasons to be.
I begrudge them not, although, I would take any other partner for this dance.
Every facet of my glorified babysitting gig was fulfilled.
Orders, layaways, rentals, quotes, payments, all without a hitch.
Then in walks CVT. He's an old black guy in the guise of a young white boy.
(like Michael Jackson only straight and poor)
CVT is a sweet dude, and I'll back it up like this:
- The guy buys sweet gear (and plays it)
- He knows what he wants and just gets it (except respect).
- His eyes are open, he knows what should be (and alternately what is)
- Patience. (in spite of his youth he reigns in inpulse and instinct)
I'll give him as much dice as any customer.
That's infinitely more that I can say for our nepetismic prince.
I really can't say why BJ would choose today to have a pissing contest
with the only one who feels compelled to watch his back (work ethic)
and soothe the feathers of those he offends.
In short, CVT was killing time. . . .
like everyone else in the store (myself included)
Was he loitering? Perhaps.
And the other wrenches in my field of view? Lets recount . . .
In the drum section, a throng of children banging
arhythmically. (no money)
In basses, Juan TuDual is at it again. (Has he ever bought anything?)
In acoustics, A gathering of 3-4 teens and their ladies treat us
to a swaying sing-song on $3000 acoustics simply unattainable to
anyone but professional session musicians and spoiled rich kids.
(Yeah I'm sure I can sell that as new now)
The PA dept, a dirty indian man is in again, unable to commit to a $100
interface for the third day in a row & needs a few hours of handholding.
(that's comming back for sure!!)
Rentals, another group of the old CH__CH. Guess were I am?
Do they need a rental? Hell no, they need someone to re-write a quote for them.
A quote they were given last week. FMLx2
Shipping . . . No boxes incoming on the weekend,
Then, whats all the typing coming from back there?
I don't think it's work related.
So where's CVT when all this is going on? Waiting patiently.
He was actually asked by a customer for help. (and did!)
Between wrecks, he approaches the counter and comments on the full house.
"Can you step back from the counter, PLEASE!" BJ asserts his authoritae`.
CVT is taken aback understandably.
"pardon?"
"You're blocking actual customers" he quips.
"ah, O-kay" CVT responds rolling his eyes in a way universally dismissive.
He gingerly retreats. to a stool in guitars. (that's called strategic retreat)
What's this? - someone not in awe of the power weilded by the 10th level
Juju-bean of akbar. (Auggie thinks it's real-life)
"Would you like to step outside?"
(it comes across more menacing on the printed page.
Imagine a speech bubble above a stick figure)
I was sure he meant "to talk" but sometimes the customer just hears your words.
A more unstable person would have taken him up on it - & beat his ass.
A simple "
No thanks" was all he recieved and inside I laughed.
There's only one reason a person takes you away to talk,
they want you out of earshot for anyone else.
Heated words were exchanged about how CVT is a distraction & inpedes my work.
How did I get involved?
Anyway, I have to say something now.
"We do have a bit of a problem, B" I casually remark,
"he IS a customer"
"Follow me!" He barks and leads away from the counter.
We're the only 2 staff on the floor. So what could I say?
"Hey CVT, could you just watch the counter a minute?"
"Done" He responds, already a much more effective team member.
Meanwhile Just off the salesfloor -
"We will discuss this later!"
(gee your face is really red)
and then,
"This conversation is over!"
(actually, a conversation requires 2 voices)
Fast forward to my lunch break, I'm giving Bryan the play by play recount
when the dorway is darkened by the only "genius" we know who proves it
by working retail with a crew of people who hate him.
I am presented with a piece of paper on which is displayed: (verbatim)
loiter
v. to linger or hang around in a public place or business where one has no particular or legal purpose. In many states, cities, and towns there
are statutes or ordinances against loitering by which the police can
arrest someone who refuses to "move along." There is a question as to
whether such laws are constitutional. However, there is often another
criminal statute or ordinance which can be applied specifically to
control aggressive begging, soliciting prostitution, drug dealing,
blocking entries to stores, public drunkenness, or being a public
nuisance.
"Very nice, if you think he's loitering you can go ahead and ask him to leave, by the way . . our whole business model is based on loitering"
We don't make someone leave just cause they're hanging around.
(If I could today wouldn't have been so busy)
BJ has another approach, "Just don't deal with him, send him to me"
"Tell him to leave if you want, I'm not getting involved - that's a management thing"
"Just stay away from him then" BJ snaps, and leaves me to my soggy fries
(how lunch came about was hillarious as well)
So I finish my "break" and can't help but feel something is missing from my meal.
I return to the floor and after grabbing a loose rental and reassuring the smelly indian
guy that his Karaoke machine would indeed plug into the interface (again),
I catch CVT approaching from the guitar section in my peripheral vison.
I make a quick side step and manage to keep myself about 10 feet ahead of him.
I go past the counter and into keyboards before he realizes the elaborate
cat-n-mouse game is for BJ's benefit.
"keep your distance man, I got a warning"
"OK, sorry I don't wanna get you in trouble"
"I'll take your payment but let's keep it short"
Ching. Loiter-B-gone.
Finally the clock strikes signalling my parole.
CVT is on his way out lest he outstay his welcome:
"Bye Curt, Bye Bryan, Bye BJ."
"Don't loiter too much" BJ responds wanting to have the last word.
Alas, the last word belongs to CVT,
"EAT A DICK!" he calls and walks out.
"I wouldn't have said that", Bryan says playing it safe.
Smiling I respond "I am not my brothers keeper,"
I can't control what he says (or writes) any more than I can control BJ.
On the Plus side - No man controls me either
2010-07-15 @ 03:44:09 am
by sfsd
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