The Ivy Vine

2003-02-13T16:13:00.000-06:00

Due to the now-you-see-it-now-you-don't trouble with the comment system, I've found another blog server.

The good part is that the comment system is built in.

The bad part - which isn't as hideously bad as all that - is that one must register to post. But it's free!

Here's the URL: http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=TheClingingVine

2003-02-07T06:51:00.000-06:00

Well, now I feel silly.

You'd think, considering where I work, I wouldn't get tripped up like this, but you'd be wrong.

Yesterday Don had a Really Fabulous sales day, God be praised! First one in years. We had a bottle of champagne in the fridge (can't recall why), so I bought a couple of Gallia Linea flutes so we could toast his success and drink the bubbly properly (our champagne glasses are the saucer type, which was standard 30-odd years ago).

Time came to wash my new flutes and put them away.

They don't fit in any of my cupboards. Way too tall! They're presently sitting in solitary, regal splendor on my kitchen counter, next to the spice rack.

So here's another caveat to warn brides about when they register . . . not only "Careful how many stems you request, for they take up lots of room" but "Mind the really tall ones . . . you can have trouble storing them." :^(

2003-02-05T07:29:00.000-06:00

Dang!

The "comment" apparatus has disappeared again. :(

Maybe it'll show up as suddenly as it disappeared.

2003-02-05T06:56:00.000-06:00

What IS it with people?

Foley's provides two elevators, yet if I had five bucks for every time I've seen people maneuver a stroller onto the escalator, I wouldn't need to work at all.

This is DANGEROUS, folks!

That escalator is 25 years old and has a nasty tendency to suddenly sit on its haunches and refuse to budge, meaning it stops without warning. Fortunately it tends to not jerk to a stop, which would really be bad, instead rapidly slowing down (is that an oxymoron?). As shaky a grip as some of these parents have on that stroller, however, it wouldn't take much to make 'em let go.

This is, I swear and declare, one of the most stomach-churning things about working in the tabletop area - constantly watching babies and toddlers be put at risk by parents too lazy to walk to an elevator. :^(

Promise me y'all don't do that!

2003-01-31T08:54:00.000-06:00

Visitors.

On Wednesday the store had Very Important Visitors, which meant everyone - loosely translated, that means "management" - went ape in preparation. The Chairman of the Board is coming! To arns! To arms!

Well, alright, maybe not to arms, precisely, but anyway, we're all to Look Alive and Make The Store Spotless.

Naturally, there were two big trucks on Monday and Tuesday, which made our attempts to re'd up all the more challenging. Don will attest that come Tuesday evening, I was Officially Wrecked. Tottered home in a state of near-exhaustion and collapsed into this 'puter chair and didn't budge.

One of the big pushes was for Clean Terminals and Wrapstands. Get those notes off those terminals! Clear off the wrapstands!

Tell me, all you non-retail folk, do y'all actually care particularly whether or not there are notes taped to a department's terminal? Does a shiny clean terminal induce you to spend money you otherwise wouldn't?

Truth be told, I find this hard to believe.

Personally, I think the reason business (in the sense of numbers of $$ being hauled in) is down is because we're training our customers to shop not just when there's a sale, but it must be a sale with a coupon.

If I sold $750 total Sunday through Wednesday, I'd be surprised. :(

2003-01-26T04:09:00.000-06:00

One of the pleasures of working on the weekends:

A husband who is willing to cook. ;->

This evening - okay, last evening - Don made homemade soup for dinner. Italian Sausage Soup, replete with spinach, carrots, zucchini, tomatoes, beans, and of course, sausage. Sprinkled a lot of Parmesan over it and yum yum . . .! That was good eating!

Well, Don and I thought so, anyway. You've have thought he'd dished up Creamed Cat on Toast to judge Charles' reaction to it. When do teenage boys' tastebuds mature past the pizza-n-hamburger stage?

2003-01-19T06:48:00.000-06:00

A night in the hospital.

I'd forgotten, after all these years, just what that's like.

Interrupions. Nothing but interruptions. Incredible. Woken up over and over - blood pressure, blood drawn, EKG, even having some tape thing moved from one side to the other. Hospital staff entered my room three times between 5 a.m. and 6 a.m.! THREE times! And this, of course, doesn't take into account the rest of the night.

I was zonked yesterday evening.

2003-01-16T11:41:00.000-06:00

Well.

Christmas is over. At last.

The New Year is here. At last.

Inventory is over. At last.

Wowzers! I'd forgotten what The Festive Holiday Season - including Pre- and Post- - is like in the wonderful world of retail. Lots of very nice people, with a smattering of pills and pests. I'm torn between vowing "Never again!" and thinking, "Okay, next time I'm gonna . . . "

What gets me in a twist is the realization (and I apologize in advance for the lamentable lack of humility about to be displayed) that Retail is what Anne Does Best, at least regards outside employment. Contrary to popular opinion, not everyone is good at working with the public, learning stock, resolving problems, etc. The ability to handle all those elements is what makes someone good in the realm of retail.

I can do it.

Gee, how neat! How exciting! I excel in one of the lowest paid fields out there. Ain't I the lucky ducky?

But then I think, "So? What's up with using the Fallen World's gauge for success? The more money a position pays translates into a more important job?"

Professional football players make lots more than I do, but let's face it . . . when was the last time anyone really needed a professional football player?

Judging by the desperate expressions on the faces of those wandering the aisles, searching for someone to help them, we store salespeople can have a far more immediate, personal, and practical impact on a person's life.

Pretty cool. ;->

2003-01-02T04:23:00.000-06:00

Don't people have anything else in the world to do?

New Year's Eve . . . here come all the people to the mall.

New Year's Day . . . ditto.

It's astonishing how folk today automatically gravitate to the mall if they have a significant chunk of time on their hands. And I swear, they prefer the tabletop department o'er all else! Let the store open at 8 a.m. or 7 a.m. and here comes the thundering herd, beating a path to the china or crystal department. Not necessarily buying anything, mind! These days, in fact, they usually have stuff to return.

Speaking of which, perhaps it's me being cynical and suspicious, but I wonder how much of this merchandise saw duty over the holidays, but is now coming back? There was a woman, for instance, who bought eight silver chargers (well, silver painted) on Dec. 23, and who returned them yesterday.

Hmmmm.

That was always a problem in fashion jewelry at this time of year as well as prom time. Amazing how often a set of sparkly earrings would be sold on Friday and returned ("They just didn't work" or "I changed my mind") on Monday!

This puts me in mind of a story I heard back when I was a teenager. It was related to me by my best friend at the time, Marcia, who heard it from her father. He worked at a bank and knew everybody, so always had the inside scoop. Anyway, there was a woman who regularly shopped at the Neiman Marcus fine jewelry department . . . she was a socialite sort who would purchase - on her NM card - a pricey piece or two or three of jewelry on Thursday or Friday and return it, regular as clockwork, the following Monday.

The people at Neiman's knew what she was doing . . . essentially "borrowing" the stuff so as to make a splash at the various social events she attended on the weekends.

They couldn't figure out how to call her on it, however. She and her husband still spent quite a bit of money with the store and they didn't want them to get mad and leave.

Finally the day came! The woman got her photo taken and put in the social pages of the Sunday newspaper. You know the sort of thing I mean.

Anyway, when the woman came in for her weekly return, the associate made the transaction but at some point put the paper on the counter with her picture - wearing the jewelry she was returning - prominently displayed.

Nothing was said by either party, but that was the end of the woman's purchase/return habit. ;->

2002-12-21T21:44:00.000-06:00

You know something I just hate?

Charles was at the Christ Chapel high school Christmas party this evening, and all the kids are supposed to bring what amounts to a gag gift. I believe he took a used video game.

Anyway, he called a little while ago, desirous of being picked up because he wound up with fish.

One had already died.

If there is ONE thing I loathe, it's people giving livestock as gag gifts. Or as prizes at game booths. You cannot imagine how many fish we've watched die over the years, requiring consolation and soothing of disappointed distraught children.

I remember that Camp Fire (a group with which I was heavily involved) would have a Haunted Weekend at Camp El Tesoro sometime around Halloween. There was always some game booth that featured fish.

Speaking with other parents whose children excitedly hauled home a plastic bag containing water and fish, not a single fish ever survived more than a day or two.

Used to call it the Haunted Weekend and Fish Kill.

2002-12-20T18:29:00.000-06:00

One of the bits I like best about retail is merchandising.

I dig it. ;->

There's an alpha (which is a narrow fixture of glass shelving, called an alpha for no discernible reason that I can find) next to the china wrapstand, and it's supposed to have inexpensive Christmas stuff on it.

Well, we'd had some $5.99 Mikasa things on it - small bowls and trays - and they'd sold WAY down.

So I suggested to my manager that we put the Holly Holiday salt and pepper sets on it, instead. They're selling for $3.99, and we had a slew of them.

[smugly] Note the past tense . . . had.

By golly, they've sold like mad! People who had been ignoring them when they were with the rest of the Holly Holiday display were snapping them up in multiples.

They're nearly gone now.

2002-12-16T11:04:00.000-06:00

Why? Why, why, WHY?

Why do people have to open boxes for no discernible reason?

We try hard to make sure there is a display provided for examination of each item we sell, with available stock conveniently at hand.

Will someone please . . . I'm begging here . . . explain to ol' Five Watt why I am constantly having to try to neatly repackage perfectly good merchandise that's been hauled out of its box and then left on the fixture? If it were flawed, so another was selected, I could understand it. But invariably there's not a thing wrong with it.

It's virtually impossible to repackage the item in the same way it was done at the factory.

This doesn't just happen in hard goods. Oh my, no. I remember years ago I was helping with recovery in the men's department at Foley's/Parks. Had just spent twenty minutes totally redoing a sweater fixture . . . neatly folding each sweater and stacking them by size. As soon as I moved to the adjacent fixture, darned if a woman didn't come up and proceed to lift up, shake out, then dump back at least half the sweaters I'd just worked on!

The kicker?

The pest didn't buy a one of 'em. :^(

2002-12-14T07:29:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm finally getting the raise I was promised when I was offered the job. Probably not as much as I'd been told, but still, enough to matter. Unfortunately, the only way they'd do it is by making me a Pacer, meaning my sales quota will be higher. Theoretically this ought not be a problem, based on my sales thus far.

What bothers me is that there were no strings attached to the raise when I was promised it in July. The money I was offered wasn't near enough, but the HR person told me they were trying to get me X number of dollars, but if they couldn't, I'd get $Y, but with a guaranteed 15% raise after 90 days. We worked it out and $Y + 15% = $X. Fine, I said. I can live with Y for three months.

Amazing how, once the 90 days were up, that conversation turned into an apparent figment of my imagination!

According to the HR person, she never said anything about 90 days, or a 15% raise, or anything except after a while I could talk to my manager about becoming a Pacer.

What do you do?

This is dumb. I'd never have taken the job under the terms she is now claiming were offered.

There is no chance I dreamt that conversation . . . I asked my husband and he recalls this - the raise after 90 days - is what I told him when I called him (RIGHT AFTER HANGING UP FROM THE HR PERSON, BTW) about having accepted the position.

It's bizarre. There's nothing one can do, however, if the other person in a conversation insists she made statements she most assuredly did not make, and denies saying that which she absolutely did say.

Think I'd be used to it by now, though. Mercy knows customers do it all the time!

2002-12-10T18:35:00.000-06:00

I really don't care what Foley's does, I just wish they'd make up their minds.

Sales with coupons.

Sales without coupons.

15% discount.

20% discount.

10% discount (in the home area, which is where I work).

Extra discounts if one uses one's Foley's card.

This was a new wrinkle . . . today and tomorrow are Customer Appreciation Days, with customers getting 15% off when they use their Foley's card and 10% if they use another form of payment.

Except . . . !

It's only 10% in the home area, no matter HOW a customer pays for their purchase.

[sigh] At least today and tomorrow I needn't bother with those pernicious coupons. Everyone gets the same additional discount.

But Friday starts Red Apple, and I've heard rumors that the coupon then will be 15%, including the home area!

My head aches.

2002-12-09T22:26:00.000-06:00

May I make a suggestion?

Write down the info from your insurance card somewhere, so if you should somehow lose it, you aren't as stuck as I was at my doctor's office this morning.

What was particularly bad was that I hadn't used that card yet, as it's new insurance for me. So there I was, frantically searching for the dumb thing, used just once a week or so ago at Tom Thumb, when getting my prescriptions filled. Tried to call Foley's HR office . . . got an answering machine. Called Tom Thumb and was given their help desk, who cheerfully provided the appropriate phone number.

What a pity it either didn't pick up, or did, only to chirp "Goodbye!" when I was put on hold, and hang up on me.

Finally . . .FINALLY it worked! Actually got to talk to a Real Live Person, who spoke to the doctor's office personnel and got me all squared away.

Then I had to go to work.

All's well that ends well, I suppose. ;->

2002-12-08T20:19:00.000-06:00

Have your gustatorial tastes changed? Evolved? Morphed?

It's amazing how many more things I enjoy now than I used to.

The newest on the list: bleu cheese.

Used to hate, hate, hate, and loathe, loathe, loathe it, but now I find I love, love love it.

Still waiting to be able to stomach shrimp, however.

If that change ever comes, it'll probably be followed by the closing statement, "And then she died."

2002-12-08T18:19:00.000-06:00

Ah! A day off!

Gotta love it. ;->

Went to church and enjoyed the annual Christmas cantata, then just kicked around doing nothing particular this afternoon.

Am needing to gear myself up to go to the grocery store. Man, I hate doing that. The older I get the more of a homebody I become. If I leave the house, it'd better be to go out to dinner or on a trip or something. Going to work or the grocery store or the drycleaners is just a nuisance, to be doggedly ignored for as along as possible.

Charles pointed out that it's now two and a half weeks till Christmas.

Eek! Mayhap I'd best start shopping. :-(

2002-12-08T01:42:00.000-06:00

Boy, what a dead day on the net.

Came home to find precious few posts at the various sites which enjoy my patronage. ;->

Is everyone out Christmas shopping, then?

[making face] What a day at the store! There were a couple of bright spots, but there was also the Rude Woman who got all bent out of shape because I wanted to pull up a bridal registry for someone else (the registry kiosk was on the fritz) when I Was Supposed To Be Paying Attention ONLY To Her.

[exasperated] For Pete's sake, we were sitting at the bridal desk, and she was wanting me to get out the calculator and calculate how much it'd be for so many place settings of china, at the coupon price, plus adding on the delivery fee and tax, plus some calculations for stemware, to boot. This was going to take a while. No way around it. So she can't spare 45 seconds - literally! - for me to pop a bride's name into the computer at which I was sitting in order to print out the corresponding registry?

Began yelling at me and stomped off in a huff, declaring loudly that I'd just cost Foley's a thousand dollar sale. Embarrassed the heck out of the poor woman who had asked for the registry.

I asked Tony later if I'd done something wrong, and bless him, he assured me I hadn't. I wasn't going to get up and start showing the other woman the bride's patterns or anything . . . just act like the kiosk for her.

You know what I think, and what I told the woman who felt bad for causing the Evil Person to storm off? I think she didn't really want to spend several hundred dollars (no, it wasn't going to be a thousand) for a bunch of fancy china, just for a Christmas dinner. She'd already said she was casual in her taste, and she was just doing this because it was her turn to have Christmas dinner.

So my taking a moment to help someone else (okay, 45 seconds . . . picky, picky!) provided the excuse she needed to Forget The Whole Thing.

She didn't Forget The Whole Thing because she doesn't want to spend the bucks; heavens, no . . . she Forgot The Whole Thing because she wasn't going to Put Up With Being Ignored At Foley's.

Sounds much better, doesn't it?

2002-12-07T08:29:00.000-06:00

Okay, how can other people post comments?

I do not have a clue as to what I'm doing. :-(

Let's see if the "comment" feature got added properly.

2002-12-07T08:14:00.000-06:00

Well, let's see.

Hmmm. I've been reading smart blogs, and witty blogs, and highly amusing blogs, and creative blogs.

So now what?

The pressure is overwhelming! Do I need this? ;->

Odds are this is going to wind up being a series of free-associative thoughts on my job, which is one of those "invisible" jobs . . . no one ever thinks of this as a career option (and for jolly good reason, too) - I work in the tabletop department at a Foley's department store.

For them as doesn't know, "tabletop" = china, crystal stemware, stainless steel and sterling flatware, etc.

Tell me this, if you can: when the store is shortstaffed (as most stores are today, times being what they are), I can understand people's frustration and annoyance at having to wait a long time to be checked out, but what the deuce is the point of getting mad at the ONE person behind the counter?

Yesterday I finally got Pinkie (an 82 year old woman who has been at Foley's since the mall opened 25 years ago) to go to lunch (she's hard to pry away from a sale), which left me alone. Two terminals open at the wrap stand, people on both sides.

Anne is working like the proverbial dog, and trying very hard to be cheerful all the while.

Was involved in cutting bubble wrap to wrap up someone's glasses (eight Butler's Pantry iced teas) when a woman demanded, "Are YOU the ONLY one here?"

Well, yes. I'll be with you as soon as ever I can.

"Where can I go where it's manned? This is ridiculous."

I looked up from where I was bent over (it's a big roll of bubble wrap that sits on the floor) and tried to courteously, yet firmly, point out that I had been behind that stand for the past hour and a half (it'd taken me half an hour to get Pinkie to finally go, and she was due back any time), so was the wrong person to ask . . . I had no idea what the situation was anywhere else.

If she wanted to plaintively solicit my opinion as to where she might go which would be faster, fine.

Don't have any ideas for her, but couldn't fault the request.

But why get mad at ME? I'm just a peon . . . she wants someone to holler at, she should holler at the store manager and/or ops manager, who are the ones who make the decisions to cut staffing. Yelling at the poor peons who are stuck dealing with the results of those staff cuts is simply silly.

On the plus side, a customer brought me homemade fudge and peanut brittle Thursday, and raved to Tony (my manager) about how wonderful I am.

It was good candy.