"It's Nice of You...But Really...Who Cares..."Who knew the word "stylist" could mean something besides a hair dresser? One woman spoke to me on the phone of having been advised by her stylist, and not long after I realized we weren't actually going to talk about her hair but about her clothing choices, I received another call from another woman and became her clothing stylist for an hour and a half. "What are your measurements? Okay, let me look at the size chart. You need a Medium... Yes, I am absolutely sure. But there is one thing that concerns me. What concerns me about this plunging and revealing swimsuit tankini top [which is completely useless for a swimming class], is that it ties behind your neck. Your breasts pull on the ties which pull on the back of your neck and it's not great for your neck muscles. [Not to mention that you're looking at a picture of a 5'8" model who is 24 years old, and you're 65 and 5'1". What are you thinking???]" This kind of "professional advice" I'm offering as though I've been a Macy's "stylist" for a decade is the benefit of being able to stand bravely in your years of living and say, "Hey, I'm just like State Farm's Insurance! 'I know a thing or two!'" It's also the benefit of being able to as bullshit with the best of 'em. Or, if you're an actor: improv. An hour and a half talking about tankinis. Oh dear God in heaven, what has happened to my life??? She was delighted that I was taking all of that time to help her. I was delighted that she was keeping me from jumping out of my skin waiting for a seriously tomb-like day to end! We looked for that thing for a looooooong time. We put things into the basket. We took things out of the basket. We put something else into the basket. We discussed the basket. And after all of that time, she informed me that she had no credit card but wanted to pay with some Visa gift cards. Which didn't work. She has to go to the store to pay. I lose my commission on this sale, but honestly I don't care. I was going to make 20 cents on the whole deal anyway. And she writes an email to my new Service Leader (a.k.a. Supervisor) because she asks if I make commission, and when I say, "Yes ma'am," she says she wants to give me some kudos. I say, "That's so cool. That's what we call those kinds of congratulatory calls: kudos calls. But...you might already know that." She reveals that she used to work in retail, decades ago, so yes in fact she does know this! She is now determined to at least give me some kudos, so I give her my Service Leader's email because the store has still not given him an extension that we can send those calls to. Ahhhh...corporate life. I just hope kudos are freaking worth something, that's all. But my favorite person who calls is pissed. off. She is blowing off steam, but not particularly at me. At the store, yes. Her bitterness is reserved for the fact that no one answers the phones at the stores "anymore". She is pissed off because she has been trying to take care of her garment problem for days, and can't get anyone to deal with her. So she tells me succinctly, "You know, if they don't get their shit together, they are going to go the way of ..." and she impressively rattles off names of stores that no longer exist. "And you know, it's nice that they put on the parade," she says and I think that she is going to fold in some kudos for the store. Maybe balance out her message here. And instead she says, "but really...who cares..." All I can say to that is: mic drop. ©2018 Lori Kirstein
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWorking in Sales at a Call Center for one of the biggest stores in the country should come with hazard pay. Archives
December 2019
Categories |