Walkie-Talkie strapped on and here we go…I’m walkin’ and talkin’ out onto the retail floor.
“H2 (that’s a fancy boss name) this is Theresa checking in – where would you like me tonight?”
“Theresa, can you meet me by the jewelry counter?” I know what that means.
The jewelry counter – where all the high powered employee meetings happen before a shift and it most likely means I’m not going to be in my scheduled department.
Exactly – tonight I’ll be working in the intimates department.
Intimates, where you can get anything from a piece of string up your hiney to big white granny panties. (so my style) There are also socks, pajamas, robes, and Spanx…better known as tunicates that help you look 10 lbs thinner.
It’s a quiet night, thank God, because I am probably the worst intimates department employee there could ever be. Seriously, I’m pretty much unfamiliar with intimates attire and such a tightwad when it comes to buying new undergarments and socks. They are so expensive and no one really sees them anyway – so why not live with a tiny hole or two and that favorite white bra that has turned a pretty shade of grey from age and my laundry technique. You know what I’m saying here, right?
I’m so off topic – enough about me, let’s get back on track.
It’s my very first intimates shift and I’m like a fish out of water – believe me that is not the only flip-flopping that was about to happen during my shift. Here’s where the fun starts.
“Intimates department could you call extension 911?” Okay, the extension wasn’t really 911 but it felt like an emergency and I had to respond quickly as fear set in. I rushed to the nearest phone.
“Yes, this is the intimates department, please don’t tell me you need a price check on an item for a customer at the register. By the time I find what you need in this department and bring it to you – it may go clearance or be discontinued.” Yes, it’s going to take me that long.
Phew…that wasn’t it. Instead, I heard, “I’m sending back a very sweet, elderly woman – can you help her find a particular bra she is looking for?”
My first thought – can you give me a heads up on the brand, because I have to bust hiney around here and figure out where the hell to start to look. I’m lost in a sea of bobby traps, tunicates, and thongs.
But, my filter goes on and in my most professional retail worker voice I say, “No problem, send her back. What is she wearing?” That’s a standard question to help locate wandering customers who need help. It’s always fun to hear the delicate description of what customers look like from an employee point of view. I’m the short, dark-haired lady with roots starting to show, wearing a jean jacket and sweatpants. That’s on a good day.
Then, I see her. The sweet, elderly, very large, very overweight woman. She is using a cart for support and mobility. Every tower and rack could have been sized and color coordinated before she made it to the department. I really wasn’t sure if she was going to make it to me before the store closed. It’s a long aisle. I walked up to meet her and we made the trip together.
“So, are you looking for a particular bra? My name is Theresa and I can help you…maybe, I think, we’ll find out. What’s the name of the bra brand you’re looking for?” She’s not sure but one thing I am sure of is that she gave a whole new meaning to over the shoulder boulder holder. Did I mention she was a very large woman with very large breasts?
With a shaky voice and completely out of breath she stopped and said, “Can you look at the tag and see what kind it is and what size – it’s my favorite.”
Then before I could say, would you like to go to the fitting room for some privacy – she let go of the cart, raised up the entire right side of her shirt and flung (yeah, flung is a good word) around to face me. “Can you see the tag?”
See it? The tag? What? How the hell did she make that move so fast? The bra was totally unhooked or never hooked and broken – there was no time to analyze that problem and by the way, it was very worn and very grey. It definitely was a favorite.
I sidestepped quickly and ducked when she turned. Okay, I’m exaggerating but I did have to grab her cart to center myself. You can do this, Theresa. Be polite. Don’t stare. Don’t act surprised. Don’t trip.
“Well, let me see, yep, I think it’s a Maidenform and it looks like you might be a ‘DD’ cup.”
Who the hell was I kidding? A Maidenform? Well, I kinda could make out what looked like an ‘M’ on what was left of the tag – so we’ll go with that.
What I really wanted to say… “I’m not sure what brand it is, it’s practically disintegrated it’s so old and I’m putting you at a 48 double ZZ. Now, Lady – please tuck your back breast in and for the Love of God let’s go into the fitting room. Ain’t nobody wants to see all of this in the aisle.
Please know I’m not being judgmental here – just sharing the facts from an inexperienced intimates retail worker who was traumatized by a very sweet, elderly, very large, very large breasted woman during my intimates shift.
It’s not the huge exposed naked breast that traumatized me, it’s what happened next when her attitude flung completely in the other direction. Yikes! I hate to do this to you, especially if you are the kind of person who thrives on or dwells on negativity. But, the story stops here. With so much negativity in this world…let your imagination go wild with actually with what words were exchanged and how the story ended. In case you are wondering, I still have my high paying position and my retail adventures continue next week with another fun, snarky, sassy journey to share with from the children’s department…Yo Momma – Where is She?
Thank you so much for reading this entry. (especially since you made it all the way down here to the end) Please subscribe, share and most of all leave some feedback.
Theresa Dodge Multi-Tasker Extraordinaire