I no longer work in retail! I’ve binned my atrocious uniform and I’ll make a point of eating my membership card at some point today. I’ve quit the job I’ve held for 6 years, and tomorrow I begin a 6 week placement in London.
In the last 2 minutes of my final shift, an elderly gentleman (who wasn’t that elderly, or a gentleman) decided to tell me how ‘terrible’ the store’s customer service was. I haven’t got the time or energy to tell you just how wrong this man was/is/will always be.
I wanted to laugh, but I settled for the professional, polite, patronising response: ‘You are well within your rights to complain Sir’. I then left the store ready to vandalise his vehicle in the car park as a final act of defiance.
Obviously, I didn’t (I am unable to break any kind of rule without my insides shrivelling with guilt) but my word – the relief I feel from leaving behind that job is palpable. I’ll miss the team I’ve worked with, but I will not miss being an emotional doormat for people who are having a bad day. It’s so cathartic to finally reduce my retail career down to a few scathing, passive aggressive paragraphs.
I’ve spent the weekend celebrating with friends, drinking , bursting with laughter, and listening to live music. I want to write excessively about how grand it’s all been, but Wolf Alice’s ‘Bros’ is far more powerful and poetic – so I’ll let it speak for me:
(Image Courtesy of: https://www.pinterest.com/ajohnston2000/snl/)