June 09, 2009The life of a retail assistant: Crazy Horse

I know what you guys are thinking. The life of a retail assistant is pretty damn glamorous. Only a select few, with highly honed skills, can make a living doing this. And yes, the perks are unparalleled. All this is without a doubt true; however, for every Montreal there is a Toronto. Our days can be draining, stressful and even panicked, I assure you. These adjectives are used in most cases when, out of the blue, your dreaded clichéd customer walks through the door. Usually you can discern a noticeable decrease in store temperature, the hairs on the back of your neck raise, and finally they make eye contact and approach.

The Crazy Customer:

CC: ...So as I was saying, these brown boots you have on the wall look an awful lot like the pair I was going to buy back in '73 when I was thinking about hiking the Australian Himalayas, but the brand name was spelled and pronounced differently.

Me: Pardon me sir, are you speaking to me? I don’t think we’ve met, are you certain you were talking to me? I believe the Himalayas are on the Asian continent if I am not mistaken.

CC: What are you talking about boy? But I'll tell you this, merino wool couldn't possibly breathe better than my headlamp.

Me: Well most of the staff here finds that Merino wool’s breathability surpasses most other materials, but that is just our opinion of course. I don't see how a headlamp could be comparable in this ca...

CC: Hardly. Ever since they replaced the candle, I have been dissatisfied with my head torch. That’s why I don’t waste my money on Gore-Tex products.

Me: uh, can I help you with anything in the store.

CC: Jeez is it already 4:30, I have to start training for my expedition to both poles by camel. Do you have any sand? Oh never mind it would never be fine enough…

And before you can scratch your brow he or she is gone. You try and herd these displeasing thoughts into the darkest depths of your subconscious, but no matter how hard you try you still wake sweating nights choking on the pillow from the reoccurring nightmares associated with such frightening encounters. What you should leave here with is (besides a lower opinion of this author) knowing that I think every retail assistant on earth in reality cherishes these tumultuous encounters. Like when an attractive woman accidentally spills beer all over your pants at a bar, it is both extremely irritating, but wonderful at the same time. And you will be sure to tell your friends all about it when you get home.