Awwwww......What Day Is It?

Autumn is in the air.

It is mid-August currently, and the college shoppers are in stores by the drove. You can smell the money, and boy does it smell good! I love this time of year. I love talking to parents and letting them know that allowing their young to spread their wings and fly will be much more satisfying if they spend lots on money on creature comforts for them that they really don't need. Some of the people that spend the most money are those parents who are sending their eldest child off to college for the first time. They will shell out dollar after dollar to make sure little junior sonofabitch has a comfy nights sleep. Too many people spend way too much money on a kid heading to college. And too many of these kids are ungrateful. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are plenty who know what a struggle it is for their folks to provide for their needs, but way too many could give a fuck if Mom and Dad are down to their last nickel so that they can have a new electric blanket in case it gets chilly in the dorm.
Now, I don't like to think I'm biased. In fact, I like to think that I take everyone's money equally. But nothing will pain me more than some kid who just got accepted into Wattsamatta U and thinks that they are better than everyone around them including their parents. They look down their nose at everyone and everything as their parents spend and spend trying to please them and make sure they are just as comfortable as they were in the womb. Too many of these kids strut through the store dressed as hipsters with their clear glasses and t-shirt with two penguins in front of the Eiffel Tower.

"It's ironic, you know, because penguins can't speak French. I listen to Morrissey. I cut myself when I get unhappy because it makes other people unhappy. People don't get me."

Fuck yeah, people don't get you! You know why? Because you're an ungrateful, little turd. Congratulations, you got into college. Good luck getting out! I know I sound like a miserable, old bastard. Okay, I AM a miserable, old bastard, but Christ Almighty, it bothers me. Show a little appreciation for what's happening to you. Like I said, many are, and good for them, they should be, but for those who aren't, listen up. I hurts me to look at some of these kids and act excited for them so that their parents are not deeply embarrassed when they can't even bother to look in my direction when I say "congratulations" to them.

Me: "Congratulations! What are you going to be studying?"As he stares at the ground.

Him: "Liberal Arts."Mom is smiling ever so proudly.

Me: "Well, that should be fun." Nothing like going to High School twice.

Better pay attention during the next four years, because it might pay off and land you a cushy $9 an hour job. Some of these first year students think they have been handed the keys to the kingdom and all that's in it. They just know they're better than the rest of us commoners. You know what, you're not. And don't look down your nose at me because I work in retail, pal. I get paid quite well to put up with morons like you.

Me: "So, what are you going to study?"

Him: "Law." Great, just what the world needs.

Me: "Very good, what kind of law are..."He cuts me off rather quickly to say the following

Him: "I'm going to major in philosophy because all I need is an undergrad to get into law school. Like, no one really cares what its in so like who cares? I figure I'll just get an undergrad and then law school, okay?"

Me: "I'm sorry, I was just interested in what kid of law you were going to study." But not really.

Him: "Oh, trial law. I've already tooken some classes this summer." TOOKEN??!!

And, while I'm on it, let me just prove how old I am by ranting about what these girls are wearing. Who the fuck decided belly shirts and yoga pants were a great combination? Or better yet, spandex boy shorts so tight you can take a pulse by watching her pockets. Any parent who lets there kid leave the house looking like that should have their parenting license revoked. These girls may think they look hot but they are an accident waiting happen. I was a young man once, and I know how young men think. I know how all men think. But, please Jesus, teach your daughter how to dress. I know you can't watch her all the time, but do your due diligence and go through her closet once in a while. If she has a pair of stretch pants that says: juicy, hottie or pink across the ass..THROW IT AWAY. When she leaves the house for good she can make her own decisions. For now, step in and let her know that shit is not ok. You might as well have "cum dumpster" written across there. At least there wouldn't be any questions. seriously, who thinks this is alright? Maybe I'm just a grumpy, old curmudgeon but I don't like it. And, if you are going to wear pants that say PINK on them, shouldn't that be written on the front? Maybe you'll learn that in college too.

By the way, the camel called...he want's his toe back.

Ghosts of Retail Past

I've been in retail a long time.

I've worked in all kinds of places. I've sold all kinds of items. I've dealt with all kinds of people. I've heard all kinds of stories. I've made many people happy. I've made even more unhappy. I've been in retail a long time.
I know I complain a lot. A real lot. Hey, that's who I am. But recently, I have begun to realize that I am at the middle point of my life. Halfway to dead, I suppose. It has occurred to me that I have really enjoyed what I do. It has been a long and arduous ride, but I have really enjoyed it. One of the best things about this business is all the people I have met and worked with over the years. Some great, and some not so much. All of them have left a permanent mark on my brain. The multitudes of people I have known cannot be described in words. One was best man at my wedding, one is my best friend, one took too many No-Doze and almost OD'd in my bathroom, and one I had arrested for stealing a Twinkie. Yep, all kinds of people. And I have learned something from each of them.
One of the first jobs I had in this industry was working inside a freezer. Inside. I stocked the product that was in he windows for all the good people to buy. It was cold in there as you can imagine, but I was young and stupid and just needed a job, so I did it and didn't complain. That was the first step in this long walk to where I am today. The guy who taught me all about how to do that job was crazy as a bed bug. Probably from all the freon. He had worked inside the freezer since Christ was nailed to the cross and it had permanently affected his stability. What did I learn from him? Get out of the freezer.
So, I learned how to drive a forklift. This not only gave me mobility, but and extra 75 cents an hour. Plus, I was out of the freezer. I would drop product for other workers to put out, and receive trucks from time to time. It put me in touch with a goof who worked in the seasonal shop, setting up displays for Christmas, Halloween, Summer, you name it. We became life long friends and he would end up being the best man at my wedding. It also brought me some notoriety that I was very good at what I did. I was groomed by my store manager and, eventually, he promoted me to manager of a department. Good guy. Recognizing hard work from a young, over-achiever with a type-A personality. What did I learn from him? That I should have run when I had the chance.
It was at this job that I got my first opportunity to manage people. Up until then, I had only managed processes. Oh, how different those things are! We worked overnight and there was a standing rule that when we needed people for the job, we would interview them at night. Makes sense. If you show up for an interview at 3AM then you will probably show up for the job. I was young and had not learned much about interviewing (my skills have since improved dramatically). This was before I knew how to ask open-ended questions. So, I get this guy who said very little, gave one-word answers of "yes" or "no" and made little eye contact. His application had a huge, eight year gap between jobs, and no references. So, frustrated that I can't get him to answer questions, I decided to be glib.

Me: "You don't say much?"

Him: "Nope."

Me: "You were out of work for quite awhile there..." maybe he'll tell me something here

Him: "Yup." Okay, lets try and be funny.

Me: "You know, I know they say you guys have to have a job when you get out of jail, but do they have to send you all to me?" This should get a chuckle and maybe then he'll start talking.

Him: "Well, my parole officer thought working at night would keep me out of trouble." Oh...not the answer I was expecting.

What did I learn from that guy? Learn how to give an interview.

Maybe I have an axe to grind. The phrase having "an axe to grind" comes to us from Appalachia. The Scots-Irish settlers in that area needed to clear lots of trees so that they could successfully farm. Therefore, you needed an axe sharp enough for the job. It also provided a great weapon. Hence, if you were in a quarrel with Seamus McFerguson, it might end with him going home to sharpen his axe so he can bury it in your skull. Your fear is that he doesn't fly off the handle. To "fly off the handle" is another axe-related phrase. When Seamus raised his axe over his head (as he prepared to brain you) and it wasn't secured properly, the axe head would dislodge leaving him with a stick and providing you with means of escape. Perhaps you and Seamus could bury the hatchet. This phrase comes to us from the figurative or literal practice of putting away the tomahawk at the end of hostilities by Native Americans in the Eastern United States and is an Iroquois custom in general. Weapons were to be buried in time of peace. Knowing lots of Scots-Irish, I think Seamus would rather bury it in your skull. As long as he doesn't go off half-cocked. God A.D.D. is a tough mistress.
Anyway, after that introduction to management, I have been there ever since. I have kicked around to 8 different retailers in my 20 year journey. All of those stops being in management. I have sold millions of different items. I have hired and fired multitudes of people. I have honed my skillset and learned every step of the way, and I am sure the next 20 years will be just as interesting. What have I learned from all this? One simple thing...

My God, I'm old.

She’s right, you’re wrong, and you’re sorry

Recently, my best friend got married. As a rule, I am not a fan of weddings. Hell, I didn't even want to go to my own. This one was different. Her wedding was beautiful and very non-traditional. It was held outdoors next to a lake with all her friends and family in very casual attire. It was such a difference from what we are so accustomed to and a very welcome change.
However, it got me to thinking about all the traditional wedding customs we know. Its another night where sleep eludes me (surprise, surprise), so I did some research. Now, I know what you're thinking, this motherfucker is going to rattle off everything he found out about weddings and make smarmy comments about them and probably some play on words and maybe even what a certain group of animals is called! Well, you're right. So if that's you stop reading now and go back to whatever it is you were doing. But before you go, please click on an advertiser and help me make a few bucks. C'mon, there's a Starbucks ad over there...everybody likes Starbucks.
Back in the day, marriage meant very little about true love and much more about gaining property and producing legitimate offspring. Too many bastards back then, I guess. The common phrase "lucky bastard" is a very colloquial Australian phrase. Meant as a term of endearment, it is an oxymoron at best. After all, we all know what a bastard is by definition, and that's not very lucky. But marriage was important because if you were a bastard you had no way to claim your father's property when the time came. Guess that made you an unlucky bastard, eventually making you a poor bastard. Ancient Greek fathers used to "pledge their daughter for the purpose of producing a legitimate offspring." However, married Greek men were free to satisfy their sexual urges with concubines and prostitutes, while their wives were required to stay home and tend to the household. If wives failed to produce offspring, their husbands could give them back and marry someone else. Imagine that?

"Hey, Mr. Popadopolus? Yeah, thanks for your daughter, but I'm kinda done playing with this toy. I think its broken. So, yeah, you can have her back."

The Anglo-Saxons brought more traditions to marriage. Lets start with the best man. We like to think of the best man as being the closest, male friend the groom has. A tried and trusted colleague who will stand by you through thick and thin. The phrase "through thick and thin" is one of the English language's older expressions. It is probably dates from the times when England was still a predominantly wooded country, with few roads and where animals grazed on what was mixed grass and forest. The phrase originated as "through thicket and thin wood", which was a straightforward literal description of any determined progress through the "thick" English countryside. I only mention it because the Anglo-Saxons were the early Englishmen and they should know. Back in those days, men sometimes captured women to make them their brides. A man would take along his strongest and most trusted friend to help him fight resistance from the woman's family. This friend, therefore, was considered the best man among his friends. It was also not uncommon for the bride's family and even former suitors to make a run at the bride to try and take her back. In Anglo-Saxon England, the best man accompanied the groom up the aisle to help defend the bride. The best man would stand on the right of the grooms, the bride would stand to the left of her groom so that his sword arm was free as well as his best man's.

"Watch out Harry, bride's uncle on your left!"
"I got him Walter, now get the ring and let's get the hell outta here!"

Wonder if they had time to hit the strip club beforehand?

Okay, but what about the bridesmaids? The bridal party is a tradition that has been established for many centuries. For a long time the purpose of the bridal party was to fool evil spirits. The bride's friends dressed similarly to her in order to confuse any spirits that might be lurking about. Today bridesmaids are there to support the bride in the stressful times during the wedding.

"Oh my God, I am sooooo fake happy for her."

And to make sure everyone was happy, the bride would toss her bouquet to the women in the crowd. The bride carries a bouquet as a symbol of fertility (remember, we don't want any bastards) which comes down to us today. Early bouquets were herbs and later orange blossoms. So why toss it away? Well, it all goes back to an earlier tradition that we don't use anymore. In the olden days, women at the wedding used to tear off pieces of the bride's dress (oh, there's the strip club part) in hopes that it would bring them luck. It sometimes turned violent and the groom and best man would have to step in a defend her. Although, I've seem some of these women at weddings. If I was a best man, I might hit the bar at that time. But at this point in the wedding, they were both probably drunk so the bride had to defend herself. To do so, she would throw the bouquet away from the onslaught of angry bitches trying to rip her dress apart. They would all flock to grab the bouquet and she would make her escape. Can you picture that today?

"Bitch! I paid $900 for this dress! Here, take these fuckin' flowers and go away! I don't even like oranges."

Anyway, those were some of the oddball things I learned. There were lots more, but these were the most intriguing to me. I think we should bring back some of these old traditions. Seeing a bunch of women trying to rip off the brides dress would be nothing short of hilarious. A fight breaking out between the groom and an old boyfriend would be amazing. And seeing a bridesmaid getting rip-roaring drunk and trying to...wait that still goes on today. I do like the one about tossing the bouquet. A bouquet is a group of pheasants. More than likely named because of their bright plumage. Good thing the bride tosses the bouquet at the reception and not the ceremony. Because then she'd have to toss it to the congregation. A congregation is a group of alligators...

Told you I'd get there...

Never Odd or Even

Words are fun.

They are also very important. Words help you say what you mean and if you don't say what you mean, you will never mean what you say. I like words. I like all kinds of words, especially palindromes. A palindrome is a word or phrase that reads the same in both directions. Eye. Bob. Racecar. Let's try something harder: Do geese see God? How about: Rise to vote, sir. Yes, palindromes are fun. You know what else is fun? An oxymoron. An oxymoron a figure of speech by which a locution produces an incongruous, seemingly self-contradictory effect, as in "cruel kindness" or "to make haste slowly." You might want to say you like oxymorons too, but the plural of oxymoron is oxymora. Like I said, I like words. Some great examples of an oxymoron: jumbo shrimp, new and improved, clearly misunderstood. But I would like to relate my most favorite oxymoron of all. It is an adverb for a chain of restaurants that does not live up to it's name:

Friendly's Restaurant


Originally hailing from Springfield, Massachusetts in 1935, Friendly's was a good, family restaurant that served great ice cream. The following is taken from their website:

For over 70 years, we've built a place that brings you a friendly staff, reasonable prices, and a thousand sweet ways to end your day. That's why we truly are the one place Where Ice Cream Makes The Meal®.

LIARS! Now, I can't account for every Friendly's out there, that would just be presumptuous. But what I can tell you is that I have had some terrible experiences in a Friendly's. Sure, they have good ice cream, but I could run down to my local supermarket (as long as a certain cashier isn't having a bad day)and pick up a gallon of ice cream and eat it on the couch. You go to a restaurant so that you don't have to cook, or scoop your own ice cream, or clean up after yourself. However, when you go to a Friendly's you can't always count on having that experience. The last Friendly's I was a sorry patron in greeted me with a ten minute wait to be seated, even though there were eight empty booths. Several members of the waitstaff are talking in low voices trying to decide who will seat us. Seriously, four of them standing there doing nothing. Finally we sit down. The table is sticky. Guess none out of the four could have wiped down the table. The waitress made it over to us and took our drink order. That took a while, but hey, maybe it's busy tonight, who am I to judge. We ordered our food and waited. And waited. And waited. Now, they have this thing called, "build your own burger." As a fat guy, I can't resist. So I ordered the burger with blue cheese, bacon and buffalo sauce on top. Most burger fans can tell you that if you order a sauce for a burger it should go on top of the burger so that it can slowly ooze down over the creation and allow the meat to soak up it's buffalo goodness. Mmmmmmm...buffalo sauce. Sorry about that, just had a fat guy cut away moment. Back to friendly's. Oh yeah, the food comes to the table. On my burger: bacon, no blue cheese and buffalo sauce on the side. The only thing missing was a comment of:

"Here's your burger. Some assembly required."

So let's sum up so far. Twenty minutes to get drinks. Another twenty-five for the food. Meanwhile little Johnny sonofabitch is screaming at the top of his lungs while his parents ignore him. Another kid will not stop kicking my booth. And the waitress across from us is more interested in showing off her ass than taking orders. My waitress had two speeds slow and stop and she got stuck in stop. Other than that my food order was wrong. How do you forget the toppings when I only asked for three? I know there's really nothing they can do about the patronage. But they can live up to the expectation of good service and food that makes you smile. If I wanted to put it all together myself I would've stayed home. But, for Christsake, get it to me reasonably quickly.
Onto the ice cream part of the meal. Where ice cream makes the meal. That's the slogan. Okay, lets get a three topping sundae, chocolate ice cream, with peanut butter sauce, oreos and butterfingers. I know what you're thinking, but, no, it didn't come out wrong. It did, however, take a good fifteen minutes to get to my table. Not once did I get an apology or even an explanation for the wait time. Please don't keep me waiting, I don't like it, especially when I am paying you.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

Yeah, how about the last hour of my life back. Oh, or was that your cue for me to leave you a tip. Here's a tip: DO A BETTER JOB! I understand that being a waitress is a tough job, but there are lots of tough jobs out there. I looked down at my bill. The bottom of my check says: "We want to hear from you." I don't think they want to hear from me. You know what they don't listen to...the ineffective management and sub-par waitstaff in all of their locations. "Where ice cream makes the meal" Well it better, because it sure ain't the fucking service. If you're going to have a slogan, please make it mean something. Every time I go to Friendly's the level of service is equal a slogan of: "Here's you ice cream...eat it and get out!" I think I have their next slogan:

"Welcome to Friendly's. Please enjoy the mediocrity."


Ok, the Jubilee roll is pretty bangin'

Is there tax on lottery tickets?

Well, it's almost that time of year again. A time when we as retailers love what we do for a living. A time for wallets to empty and stuff our coffers. A time when even the stupidest question is answered with a smile because we know you're going to drop a chunk of change. A time where every person feels a certain sense of entitlement and satisfaction that they can stick it to the man.
No, not Christmas.
Not back to school time either.

Tax free weekend.

For those of you unfamiliar with this great and glorious time, allow me to educate you. Here in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts (as well as several other, glorious states) state sales tax is lifted in order to jump start the economy. All single, tangible items costing less than $2,500 and purchased for personal use are eligible under the tax-free promotion. However, like all good things, there are a few catches. Any items purchased by corporations over the weekend for business use remain taxable items. Alcoholic beverages fall under the tax-free exemption, but all sales of motor vehicles, boats, meals, gas, and tobacco products do not. Now you may be saying to yourself "Who cares?" I do. Before the weekend hits, my store is usually a ghost town. It's a great time to catch up on a lot of work. People are just waiting for me to open the store on Saturday morning so they can start shopping. It's almost like the beginning of the marathon. I feel like I should be standing at the front door, looking at my watch and holding a starting pistol in the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, start your carriages!"

That'd be sweet. But the people who are in the store that week typically don't buy anything. They just window shop and ask lots of questions. You see, in the week leading up to the tax holiday, I will be hit with so many senseless and imbecilic questions, all I can do is smile. In Massachusetts, the state sales tax is 6.25%. It used to be 5%. For some reason, many people can't seem to add that extra 1.25% and figure out how much tax money they will be saving. I try to tell people its easy: you save $6.25 for every hundred you spend. Simple, right? No. And when people ask me how much they are going to save this weekend I can give them that simple answer:

Him: "How much will I save on this item?"

Me: "Well, its $149.99 so you'll save $6.25, plus another $3 and some change, so about $9.50."

Now I just did some simple math to arrive at my answer but this guy looked at me like I was fuckin' rain man. Definitely $9.50, definitely $9.50

Him: "Are you sure?" No pal I just made the numbers up.

Me: "Yes, sir. You know roughly $9.50, it will actually be a little less than that I just rounded it off." If you want I can get my abacus and we can do it again.

Him: "Shouldn't it be more than that?" Would someone get my abacus please.

Me: "You'd think so, but that's what you're going to save."

Him: "Well, better in my pocket than theirs!" You betcha, and better to have your $149.99 in my pocket than yours!"

But I don't judge. Not everyone has a mind for numbers. But, like that guy, everyone likes sticking it to the government. Even though their potential is limited. Now, if you really wanted to make a splash you'd make a bunch of small purchases under $2500. You see, because the tax-free exception relates to single items, you will not be taxed on the overall sum of your purchases. Therefore, if you buy a TV for $2,400, a receiver for $800, and a new cell phone for $199, you will still pay no tax over the weekend. Sales tax on $2400 would be $150. Now that's a substantial savings. However, the average person isn't going to make a bunch of big purchases. In fact, the average dollar amount spent is roughly $300 per shopper over the course of the weekend. That's $18.75 per person. Not even twenty bucks!
Taxes are nothing new. But when this time of year rolls around everyone seems to check their brain at the door and forgets what taxable and what isn't. People get so confused. Take a few examples. Sales of food for human consumption (not pet food, sorry Fido - pay your taxes), other than meals sold by a restaurant, generally are tax-exempt. Sales of individual items of clothing costing $175 or less also generally are exempt. Sales tax is due only on the amount over $175 per item. Good thing that doesn't apply to food, that'd be one wicked big lobster! But still I will hear: "Is there tax on this?" Because it's easier to ask me than to know it for yourself. And when I have to say, "yes", it's also easy to get pissed at me like I just kicked you in the nuts.
But the real fun comes after the weekend has occurred. That's when you get a ton of people coming in thinking they can still pay no taxes because they couldn't make it in over the weekend. This is the time when people can do math in their heads like a savant. And their stories are priceless.

Her: "But I couldn't come in this weekend so couldn't you just give me no taxes now?"

Me: "Unfortunately, ma'am, the tax holiday has ended and we can no longer lift the sales tax."

Her: "Come on, it's only $3.75. I had to go to a funeral this weekend." Wow, two day funeral...bummer.

Me: "I'm sorry ma'am, but the regulation is pretty strict. The government expects me to pay those taxes so I have to collect them from your purchase. There's not much I can do."

Her: "Oh you can, you just don't want to!" Ding!Ding!Ding! Now you're getting it!

It is unfortunate when someone misses out on a deal, but rules are rules. And, if I lift them for her, I have to lift them for everyone. Pretty soon it will be total anarchy. Left is up, black is right, the shoe is on the other glove, dogs and cats living together...mass hysteria! She should actually feel lucky. Rhode Island does not have a tax free weekend. Neither does Vermont or Maine...

Don't tell her about New Hampshire.