So I thought id share a story with you all today. I have this ‘FRIEND’ called “RetailBoy”. He’s a stand up guy that’s just stuck in a rut career wise and he had an exceptionally bad day. He emailed me his story this evening so I decided to share. I will be narrating the story as Morgan Freeman was asking for a crazy amount of jelly beans to do it for us. This is his story…as read by Steve.
As RetailBoy leaves his modest and basically functional home at 7am on a bank holiday Monday to count stock he is astutely aware that he has made a few poor decisions in life. Words cannot describe how tired he is at this hour and walking to work in the wind and rain really drives home his previous assumptions. This is going to be another bad day for RetailBoy.
Dressed in clothes he would never be caught dead in out in the real world, RetailBoy puts out his cigarette and takes that first long step in the door to that lair of death he works in. As he turns around to shut the door RetailBoy shivers at the seemingly deafening sound of the door closing. He has left the weekend behind him and now is trapped in his horrid workplace, a place where dreams go to die.
Each step RetailBoy takes on the ever decreasing stairway confirms his fate. The awful radio station playing past the door at the top makes RetailBoy a little more stupid for being anywhere near it. The wooping and wailing of Florance and the Machine almost seems appropriate taking into account the screams of anguish blaring in RetailBoys head. He is now in his prison and makes his way to sign in.
As RetailBoy walks through the door at the top of the stairs he is hit with a florescent beam of light coupled with the now alarmingly present shit music. He sighs and walks to clock in. Raising one finger, RetailBoy is biometrically scanned into work, he finds this both demeaning and controlling but he slowly shuffles away and starts his day of intense difference making.
The reasons behind his laughably early start on a bank holiday were soon made just that, laughable. It seems nobody informed RetailBoy of a crucial and catastrophic failure in the IT system making his now completed stocktake as pointless as the Occupy Galway “movement”. Well used to the incompetence directly above him – RetailBoy sees this a nothing new and just carries on if only just slightly pissed off where in fact he is slowly dying inside.
RetailBoy starts his normal Monday work, things he is so sick of doing that it sometimes makes him scream at night but what is he supposed to do? It seems he is the only one capable of completing extremely simplistic tasks. Then it begins, in wander the people.
RetailBoy is a hell of a salesman and legend has it he once sold a gentleman his own watch. He prides himself on his people skills and subtle sales manipulation tactics, he gets results. Today was going to be different for good old RB. A bank holiday during the Easter school break brings out more people than when the ice cream van shows up in a housing estate. Sounds like a good day of sales for RB and he was happy for that to happen, that is until the pressure of ques becomes for too much for one man, no matter how great, to handle.
RetailBoy finds himself running around like a crazed lunatic because of the overwhelming and constant stream of people. His store is being torn to shreds by Ill mannered spoiled brats – ands that’s just the adults. Chest pains soon kick in but luckily it was time for his lunch. RetailBoy turned off his phone and walked home for some top notch crappy food. About 20 seconds into his walk the heavens open and it begins pouring rain. Undeterred by his now soaking clothes he continues his stroll to his shitty apartment. He chows down and spaces out for a little while before walking back to work…in the continuing torrential downpour.
On his arrival back at the broken lives centre for the criminally dimwitted he spots a stack of products needing to be dispatched elsewhere as his cover seems blind to said stack, nothing angers RetailBoy more than blissful lazy ignorance to another mans workplace. But he says nothing and does it himself, the only way RetailBoy knows how…quickly, properly and with intelligence. But a penny dropped in RetailBoys head today.
Why does he give a shit? RetailBoy has been breaking his back for his company for the better part of a decade and he has gained nothing from those years. Nothing but disappointment and constant frustration with his surroundings and workload. He takes too much on himself on a daily basis and it will eventually take a toll on his body. Why does he give a shit anymore? It’s a dead end job with no sign of any pay increases for the foreseeable future and there is nothing he can do about that. This understanding allows further frustration to seep into his already destroyed employment mental health and there is also nothing more he can so.
But why does RetailBoy give a shit? He just does. It’s who he is. He cannot be broken by people or situations, it is his cross to bear. He could easily wake up some day and decide to hand in his notice and arse around town doing nothing for a few years but it’s not who he is.
But today is a different type of bad day for our friend RetailBoy…something snapped. Trying to get everything a person of authority needs to be done on a daily basis while acting as a salesman, motivator, shelf packer, delivery person, minor logistics and checkout type person is becoming way too much to deal with for a person of his age unassisted. He is well capable of doing all of these things and completes his day on auto-pilot most of the time but it just is not financially worth the stress and strain on my body and mind on days like this.
What’s more of a burden on his working life is dealing with the general ignorant Irish public. There is something very disgusting and wrong about dealing with people who have zero percent personality other than that of the demon that possesses them to antagonize a person who is only trying to help you with your ever increasing post-Celtic Tiger up your own hole clueless abrasively confusing and borderline ludicrous needs. RetailBoy is sick to his well sculpted stomach of dealing with these people. He has seen middle aged “married into money” women saunter into countless shops wearing designer clothes in the middle of the day (you know the type that dress up in their finest clothes to go buy clothes) and bitch and moan at teenagers and part time student workers for dreaming of charging 22c for a fucking plastic bag, a levy that has been in position for a decade, longer than their hollow marriages to captain moneybags. RetailBoy is just so damn sick of being so damn sick of it.
Years ago he would laugh it off and carry on but that was when he had other people to help out whereas now in this cost cutting paradise we all enjoy poor old RB has no time or staff and is forced to move on to the next walking disease of a human being that presents itself. The youthful exuberance RetailBoy possessed is gone gone and he finds himself a bitter broken man.
So what next for RetailBoy?
Immigration? – No interest.
New job? – No security in moving.
RetailBoy will show up again tomorrow with a smile on his face until his routine kicks in and it destroys his mind. He became extremely aware of that fact this evening as he has done the same damn things in the same damn order for his entire adult life every day and it is wearing extremely thin after today for the poor lad.
RetailBoy has not been spotted since leaving work this evening but we have had numerous reports that he is in a bar sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth, while cradling a pint calling it his baby. The lad is burned out, cast the first stone.
So thats the story of my friend RetailBoy. I hope you enjoyed reading about his terrible life.
I just wrecked your trousers,