Why I hate working in retail

Okay, so it's been a long time since I've worked in retail. About 6 years maybe. I could probably write a book on working in retail, the cornerstone of which being that the customer is nearly always wrong. I didn't hate the shop itself, or even the people I worked with. Just everything else. ALLOW ME TO ILLUSTRATE:

Number One – The Customers

Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. Where do I start? Working in a busy shopping centre I had the pleasure of meeting people from all walks of life ('pleasure' equal to shaving with a cheese grater). I don't know what level of hell coughed forth some of the monstrosities that came through that door – be it rudeness, arrogance, petulance or pure stupidity – you name it, they had it in heaps. Which they were more than happy to throw our way because shop assistants are worse than Hitler when you come back into the shop because the pasty, y'know the hot pasty that you asked 'Is it hot?' is too hot for you.

The worst was always when customers tried to get you to serve them when you're going on a break or leaving at the end of your shift, like so:

Screw that for a game of soldiers – I'm done for the day.

Another thing that always stuck in my mind was the customers that for whatever reason needed to bring something back to the store. They'd come lumbering towards the shop like a pink elephant on the horizon, holding their coffee out at arm's length and pointing accusingly at it like it's a bomb they've managed to disarm and now want to show everyone else.

-_-

People that held you personally accountable for stuff they didn't like was funny, too. I think i was once held complicit in an offending piece of cucumber that someone had dropped outside the shop which the next person had then proceeded to slip on quite hilariously. ("I could sue you!") I heard as she got back up. Could you really though? Good times.

Number Two – No rest for the wicked

Shifts. Anyone that has worked in retail (though not exclusively - pretty much anyone working odd hours) will understand the struggle when trying to balance an irregular working pattern with your life, especially if you have school or Uni to chuck in there too. For the last two years of 6^th form and the proceeding first two years of Uni I was there Monday-Friday and working the Saturday and Sunday. Yep, a 7 day week. Yet the mere idea of not being free on a weekend was too much for some of my friends to even comprehend. I might as well have been talking to them in German. Often I would get asked if I was free on a fairly regular basis at the weekend, despite me advising that I work during the day on weekends.

Friday night:

"Oh but can't you get it off?"

"Just because it's a weekend day doesn't mean it's some kind of cop-out where I can just saunter in and out of work willy nilly as and when I feel. So no."

"o rite".

On the flip side, work could never understand why I would ever need a day off to go to say, a family wedding or something:

Someone in a managerial position: *Looks at timetable for that day 6 months in the future, then exhales, not unlike a gas leak*:- "Sorry mate, Tits Mcgee has got that day off. Looks like it's a no go on that".

Me:- "But it's for a family wedding!... I really need it off!"

"Sorry. You'll have to talk to Tits Mcgee".

Tits Mcgee was not cooperative.

Number Three – The Double Edged Sword

Often, as a young person, working in retail is one of the few ways to get a foot in the door in the world of employment. The bizarre working hours and days mean that it's the only way you can have a job that doesn't interfere with your other educational commitments. If none of that applies to you but you choose to go full-time into retail, then you are a brave soul. Frustratingly, it's needed for the income it brings. It's easy enough to get into compared to other jobs especially during busy periods like Christmas-time, not that it's well paid though by any stretch. But again, as a young person that isn't as important because you don't really have a sense of money yet. I mean that in the sense of, yes- the wage is abysmal but you probably aren't paying all your own bills, a mortgage, car insurance etc just yet. My first wage at 16 years old was £3.71 an hour (this was in 2005) but that was the last thing on my mind – I had a job, I could buy shit. Of course, it usually went on food or games.

Those that do work in retail and love it (the shifts don't bother you, the endless tide of derp that is the human population doesn't bother you) then I applaud you. But that job is not for me. It's sometimes an easy trap to fall into - you think you'll just start there to get on the employment ladder, and then whoosh. Before you know it you're 35 and Cheryl's getting impatient in the queue because she wants to return her lacy underwear.

After having worked in retail and moved on, and I think I can say the same for anyone that has – you do cultivate an appreciation for the people left behind. You might be pissed off because there's an unexpected queue in McDonald's at 8:00pm on a Friday night, but spare a thought for the person behind the counter, I'm pretty sure they didn't ask to be bummed off onto the night shift.