H O M E

There are very few things I actually miss about working in retail, cause lets be real....once an old lady with what can only be surmised as Alzheimer tries to physically fight you at the cash register because you remind her of some bitch from 1920's who stole her boo at the speakeasy, the minimum wage and employee discount really don't seem worth it.

I haven't worked in retail in almost 4 years and it's insane to think that I slaved away in the aisle of the bookstore for as long as i did. There used to be this time, not so long ago, when I worked two jobs, the latter at crazy hours with customers who included a guy who smeared shit on the bathroom mirrors so frequently we donned him the phantom pooper. The 3rd time it happened, I remember we all just stopped working so we could run to the bathroom in disgust and fascination at the balls on this guy for having poop as his calling card.

Now that I am a slave to the cubicle life, I sometimes look back at my time at Le Sad Store and wonder how i did it for so long. Especially because there were almost no perks to the job.

For one, minimum wage is a bitch and anyone who complains that we shouldn't raise it have never worked a "real job" a day in their life. While working a cushy office gig pays your bills and weekend off ....you get a warrior badge if you survive working retail. Because a lot of people don't.  I started at Le Sad Store making $9 per hour and post college, this seemed like a gold mine of a hourly wage. I had just come off working $5 at my school library which allowed me to buy weekly foot-longs from Subway while I played the sims to kill time. So of course the $4 bump seemed like my first real step towards financially security. I was a fool!

Realistically $9 aint shit when you have actual bills to pay and add rent on top of that I barely had enough money for food at the end of my paycheck. Despite this I still went out regularly, was a frequent buyer of tattered Forever 21 clothes and abused the shit out of that employee discount by funneling most of my paycheck back into the company with all my  unnecessary book, dvd's and cafe purchases.

Secondly, working on the weekend should be banned! You go through most of your life taking advantage of Saturday and Sunday that when it is stripped away from you it feels like a death. For almost 8 years, I worked on weekends to the point where Tuesday and Wednesday's were my day of rest. But there is something sacred about Saturday and Sunday. It's hard to explain. Saturday just feels like a Saturday. As does Sunday. The two days are supposed to be about relaxation or fun if that is your choice. Working should not even be a thing one has to do.

Towards the end of my time at the bookstore I was clocking in only around 28 hours a week. EVEN THEN, most of those hours were spent working on the weekend. And idk, it's just sort of awful. Saturdays should be for errands and hanging out and movies and naps. On Sunday, I should only have to wake up enough to maybe put on pants and find something binge-able on TV. I should not have to work for 8 hours surrounded by people who openly choose to be at my place of work! it's offensive.

But the real crux of working in retail is the customer because most people are trash. I am an insanely accommodating shopper because of my time spent being harassed, embarrassed, demeaned and once again PHYSICALLY assaulted by the general public (she brought the cane out!). I try to buy things only online so I don't even have to set foot in any retail establishment (except Target. I love Target) because I know how awful people can treat retail workers. I also judge potential friends and romantic partners by how they interact with severs, cashiers and other "hospitality" workers. If you don't say "thank you" or are dismissive or leave a shitty tip you are a trash person who i do not want to know. There are way too many awful customer stories to detail but just know that it's worse than you could ever imagine.

And while the actual customers are terrible what's even worse is the entitlement people hold over you. People assume you work in retail because you aren't qualified to work anywhere else. That you should just get a real job. That looking for books and ringing up customers is super easy. And to give them credit, a lot of it is easy but that doesn't mean anyone who works in retail isn't busting their ass. I was in the best shape of my life at the bookstore because I was on my feet all day. Between shelving books and finding books and chasing teenagers out of the store, I burned more calories at work then I ever did in mandatory PE classes. I also had to sacrifice holidays because people love to shop. We worked all the Eve's and never got any government holidays off just so you could buy the latest New York Times bestseller.

Also, working parents would often leave their kids (babies) at the store as if we were a personal daycare center and while it wasn't our responsibility to watch them we legit kept watch over children left to fend for themselves at the store. We also had to deal with "regulars"...well on the regular. People who frequented the store so often they might as well have lived there. They talked to us repeatedly as if we were their friends and most times we were empathetic ears to lonely and worn down individuals. So yea, finding someone the Secret for the 7th million time isn't that hard BUT spending 7 long hours on your feet, making less than $10 an hour as people continue to berate you because you can't find "the book that has a red cover" can be a daunting if not noble venture.

I must have a form of PTSD from my time in the bookstore because even though it has been four years since clocking in, I do have a tendency of watching Youtube videos of customers freaking out in public. My Youtube history is full of videos of customers behaving badly while people stare on horrified and appalled and yet still paralyzed to do anything.  At first I thought this was just me being a huge ass weirdo, but I confirmed with another former bookseller worker that I am not the only one who does this! I did not become a lifelong retailer worker but there is a smidgen of guilt for the life and friends I left behind and maybe having a reminder every once in a while is how i leave pay my penitence.

Because if I can be honest, while almost every fucking thing about retail was awful and dreadful and stress inducing....I miss my coworkers tremendously. I miss my friends who I will always consider family even if I no longer speak or see them. There is something about working in a shitty retail environment that creates a bond between the people that is impenetrable. It is Us (employees) Vs. Them (customers, corporate, managers) that inspires the same level of teamwork as an old school Field Day event.  My coworkers and I used to work in near perfect tandem because we liked working together and being around each other and supporting one another.

Someone having a bad day? We'd pill them with hugs and snacks from the vending machine and jokes until the person felt a little better. I once was so poor I couldn't afford lunch at le sad store, so my friend brought me sandwiches from home until our next pay period. When I offered to pay him back he was offended. It is the first time I have ever tackled someone with one of my hugs. Our friendships (all of them) were definitely messy, overwhelming, annoying and of course when we all started dating each other very incestuous but I am convinced it was the most authentic love I have ever had with my peers. We were a team in and outside of that store and anything less than that feeling of fidelity feels like a disappointment now. 

The next time you go to Target or Walmart or hell even that little clothing store in mall, look at how the employees interact with each other. Sure they are rude towards customers and flee in the other direction when the see a dumb question coming their way....but i bet your ass you will almost always see them smiling and laughing in interactions with each other. I'd put my next paycheck (not really, i have to get my car fixed) that they are friends and want to see each other outside of work. Retail teaches you about teamwork and camaraderie and dare i say...friendship the way it should be.

So yea, I don't miss the late hours or the low pay or the customers who think you are property along with the things your store is selling. But i miss the shit out of walking into work and checking the schedule to see if my favorite people are working with me. I miss walking into the break room and being greeted with "hellos' and "I missed you" and continuation of conversations that happened only hours later.  I miss looking over at one of my friends as a customer is acting a fool and sharing a look that only the two of us understand and will no doubt discuss in length afterwards. I miss my people, my tribe, my ride or dies and lifelong friends. I miss them painfully.

I bring this up because honestly outside of a handful of people at my current job, I loathe the majority of my co-workers. This isn't to say they aren't fine people but they aren't "my" people. They aren't watching great TV shows or reading interesting books of finding new and dope music they have to share immediately. They are investing in stocks, talking about mortgages ,placing illegal bets and playing a legitimate game called CORNHOLE during work hours. Do you want to know the point of the game? You throw a ball in a hole. That's it. They have spent hundreds of dollars betting each other on who can win the game. How do you even have enough money to place such bets? I have bills to pay and rent to pay and any extra money is not going towards winning or losing a game called Cornhole. It's going to Target.

And who would have thought that liking the people you spend more than 40 hours with throughout the week is super fucking important.  But holy shit it is almost pivotal to my work life balance....and happiness. Outside of the Matt fiasco my personal life is pretty okay. Sure, there could be improvements to my every day but for the most part I am in love with the baby steps I am making. Last week I went to Whole Foods (like an actual adult), purchased some healthy meals, stood in an indiscernible aisle and stared at the nutritional information on the back of the cookie box I was holding. I'd seen someone do this earlier is a more appropriate and less snack food aisle and I figured I'd mirror her actions too because this is what adulting is like. Though i walked out spending way to much on "organic" food there was something very mature about the whole trip. Only four years ago I was slaving away at le sad store, renting a room in some lady's house and buying frozen meals that couldn't adequately feed a toddler. And there I was on a Saturday in a Whole Foods that I drove to  in my own car buying food for my REFRIGERATOR to eat during the actual work week. Ya'll i have a fridge.

But there are only two days during the weekend and my organic cookies and almond milk can't make up for the fact that I spend the bulk of my time and life at a job that hate with people i'd openly ignore in public. And it's weeks like this when I am feeling extra nostalgic and homesick for my old life. I'd almost take another near asswhooping from a gal name Betsy too deep into her Alzheimer to realize I am not in fact her childhood rival as she manhandles me to the shock and fear and even amusement of my co-workers nearby. I'd relive that moment once again, just for the comfort of seeing my friend turned families contorted, anxious but familiar faces again that were as home to me as home gets.

Nice Girls Don't Finish On Top

I am unabashedly a nice girl and I am starting to think this title is doing nothing for my social life. Don't get me wrong, my mamma didn't raise no fool. I am not a pushover and have surprised many a people who thought my bite wasn't as big as my bark. I can be a fearless girl and I have not always been an incredibly nice woman when backed into a corners.

In high school I was angst filled and aloof to the point of coming off cold to my peers. Marie and I were queens of sulking and side-eyeing anyone who did us wrong and I was told more times that I can count to stop being "mean" to [insert names here]. When you are young, the moment you learn you are quick witted, it's hard to contain the sass. So even though I was a nice girl, I am also a smart ass to a fault. I said and did dumb things to prove points that didn't need proving. 

In college, I was hard-headed and stubborn. I was often accused of thinking I was "better" than my peers because of my disdain for commonality and small talk. Having anxiety didn't help disprove this misconception. I'm not going to lie, even with this blog detailing my most embarrassing years, I don't think I can stress enough how weird and awkward i was. Because I was really fucking awkward. I really didn't try enough to make friends  and was unable to openly just be myself like i craved....so I would come off as weird and brooding and full of tension, despite the fact that I was listening to Shawn Colvin on my CD player and reading romance novels in-between classes.

Being less anxious these last few years has definitely increased my self confidence and how i present myself to the world. I am still awkward but in a fumbling, comical and delicate way rather than mouth breathing, sweaty and off putting counterpart.  I am much too old to constantly worry what people think about me (as I write a post about what people may think about me. The irony is ever present) which has allowed me in many ways to be just be who I am without fear of embarrassment. But now that I am less anxious, the layers that have been stripped away just reveal that I am an incredibly kind and nice human being. And it's nauseating.

While I do have moments of sassiness and "bitch-like" bravado.  I am  your quintessential good girl. People NOW tend to find me adorable and relatable to a motherfucking fault (oh, and I curse a lot...which is probably not a good girl thing but whatever). I am called sweetheart by damn near everyone i met, children are not intimated by me and one time a dog feed me a treat. I wish I was kidding but perhaps thinking i was in need of it's care, my friends dog passed up her treat and brought it to me...as if she were doing me a favor. Le fucking sigh.

The problem is....because people mistake me for being a good girl, I am not often met with the same level of respect from men and and often infanticide by my some of my female peers. It doesn't matter that I can rap to Cardi B lyrics like a motherfucking boss or that i rehearse arguments in the shower on a regular basis (you must always be prepared)....at the end of the day, the secret about me is always at the surface. I am incredibly nice and soft which often comes across as naive, gullible and lacking experience.

And to be fair I am a fault for my nice girl image. I am the most accommodating person you will ever meet and I am not even admitting this fact to toot my own nice girl horn. I am annoyingly optimistic and never openly judgmental of anyone. People have admitted some weird shit to me but instead of shutting them down, I want to take the time to learn more about their interest.When I claim you as a friend I will go above and beyond to shower you with love and affection. And while this has it's benefits, I am also too trusting, too forgiving, too polite and thus susceptible to shitty people. It's as if my kindness lures them in and then WHAM, I have to go through another blocking spree because I cannot have such negativity in my life.

Today was that such day and another crushing realization as I went to Matt's FB page and Instagram page and blocked the crap out of him. I used to think blocking individuals was a un-good girl aspect of my personality but honestly it's a necessary tool for me to accept the end of something. Sometimes I do so out of a necessity (Sean and his family), other times the decision is hasty but still with my best interest at heart (Kathleen). Matt is a combination of both. Despite how shitty he has become, I am a person who forever holds on to what if. What if, he eventually comes around and realizes he has been treating me terribly because he is deeply in love with me. What if he has been ignoring me because life has become super busy but I am still at the forefront of his mind. What if he really does want to be my friend but just doesn't know how to be in my life they way I want friends to be in my life.

The problem is these "what if's" don't matter because they never came into fruition. If he wanted to be in my life, he would be and if he just wanted to be friends he wouldn't be a complete and utter asshat and towards the end he was less and less present but more of an asshat. So I blocked him. I removed myself from the situation. I packed my good girl qualities into a suitcase and sashayed out of the equation.

And while I feel okay about using my block powers to remove myself from the situation, I am beginning to worry about the relationship patterns I find myself in.  Cause it feels like an "Oops I did it again moment" but less cooler. I often connect with a people immediately.  We become inseparable and super reliant on each other and then before you know it the crazy starts. People tend to own my time and my space and want 100% access to me. And because I am a good girl I allow this even when I shouldn't. There were many times when Matt has said or done something inappropriately that I didn't call him on his shit because I didn't want to come across like a bitch. But I should have, thinking back on it.

I don't know how to stop being such a good girl but as I replay what has gone wrong in the past with friendship and romantic possibilities and my current falling out with Matt I can't help but think my niceness is a huge part of the problem. I come across as impenetrably delicate because I am impenetrably delicate so people take advantage and I let them. 

This doesn't mean I want to stop being a nice girl cause lets be real the idea of being unkind gives me all sorts of agita. I just feel like I need some alter ego, a non nice girl entity who comes out when i need her most. I need to go from Sandra Dee to "Sandy! asap because Sandra Dee is mocked and pilfered and almost always damn near feathered because of her nice girl ways.  You know how Beyonce created an alter ego called "Sasha Fierce" who takes over when she performs on stage? A sexier (as if she can get any sexier), Fiercer (as if she needs and fierce mojo) and more Dominant  (I bow to her willingly) persona? I need her.

Anytime, I am being excruciatingly nice, I need that bitch to put her stilettos heels down (bad bitches wear stilettos?) and stop me in my tracks. I need her to be more assertive and forthcoming and dare I say...even a little mean when it's appropriate. Because this nice girl stuff is no longer working in my favor. I just don't know if I have the energy to be Sasha Fierce when all i want to do is keep being me which includes a lot of annoying necessities and cat naps.

Nice For What

The first boy I ever loved was named Nicholas. We met in the fourth grade on the first day of class and I thought he was the handsomest boy i'd ever seen. I was obsessed with the movie Grease at the time, so when he walked in with his hair kind of slicked back looking like a mini greaser, I was sort of smitten. Here was my mini Danny Zuko in the flesh and for fourth grade standards he was completely and utterly it for me at that moment in time. I had had crushes before, but this felt different. I wanted to know him and for him to know me and when we finally befriended each other, I concocted images of our future relationship together which involved going to prom and other juvenile activities....like bowling. 

He'd moved from the Bronx the previous year and his older brother was an actor who had just starred in a movie with Robert Deniro. No lie! It was a small part of a much bigger cast but he got enough screen time that when Nicholas said his brother was a movie star we believed him and then marveled at the scenes with fascination. In fact, everything he told us was in a way that made it very easy to like him. He was the youngest of four brothers who were much older, so while everyone was obsessed with Pokemon and yo-yo's he talked about Frank Sinatra and wrote screenplays in a composition notebook.

I thought I was in love with him, as much as a ten year old can be at that age. I wasn't nearly as obsessed with boys as the other girls in my grade but I'd seen enough movies and read enough books to crave love or at least affection. And I had chosen him. I wanted to love and be loved by him. And this feeling was precipitated by childish fulfillment's at that time. He was nice and funny and he used to share his lunch with me. Anytime there was a partnered activity we'd run to each other to claim ownership.One time I took a bite of a cookie and handed it to him to finish and when he did the whole class groaned in surprise because he ate something with my saliva on it which meant we loved each other and were practically married by standards of saliva swappage. 

We became fast friends that first year and were inseparable during the 5th grade. He'd walk me home occasionally and during the summer he'd call to ask me about my week. I spent countless hours belting "Always Be My Baby" with this boy in mind. And when the Titanic came out that year, you bet your ass I knew every word to My Heart Will Go On. I wrote his name over and over again in my notebook, finding sentiment in each letter. I loved him or at least I thought I did but of course what I wanted and what happened never matched up.

The 6th grade rolled quickly around and I don't know what it is about Middle School but everyone literally loses their damn minds. Entering a new grade and school allows you in some weird way to reinvent yourself if you want and immediately the friends you had in Elementary school could become enemies. And that's exactly what happened. I was so excited to rejoin my group of friends on the first day of middle school, only to walk into this massive new building with a hundred new faces feeling like a complete and utter stranger. Everyone looked older, dressed differently and had an air of "maturity" about them. I did not have a growth spurt or develop breasts or even get my period. I was still stuck on my 5th grade shit that when Middle School rolled around everyone except my best friend Ahesha had abandoned me. Worst yet, Nicholas completely shunned me the first day of school and continued to do so the rest of the year.

When my mom told us we were moving at the end of the year, I was more elated than scared. 6th grade was tough and I was excited about a new town in a new state. I did well academically and even made a new group of friends but I was ready to start over. I was ready to leave this failed life behind and I was also ready to leave Nicholas. I was a pretty dramatic kid and moving was the escape i didn't know i craved more than love. On the last day of school, I penned him a love letter that my friend graciously delivered for me. It was my last attempt to salvage young love. I knew nothing would come of it, but I wanted to put everything on the line. He threw the letter in the garbage. He didn't even open it. I watched her hand him the letter in the cafeteria and then saw him turn his face up in disgust and trash the letter as quickly as he has trashed me.

Despite this obvious rejection, I still pinned for the boy years later as if it were anything more than a childish crush. The idea of him was so much more than who he actually was, that it made it easier to turn down affections from actual boys because "well, there's this guy in New York that I think is the "one". I didn't grow out of thinking that until at least 10th grade (and i'm being generous with myself because it was probably more like 12th) and I can't lie and say I didn't try to find him on MySpace when it first came out because i was way ahead of the internet creeping trend.

For reasons I have yet to uncover, I am most careless with my own heart. I have always been.  I am an emotionally mature individual who gravitates towards emotionally and physically unavailable men. I spent the better part of my teens pinning for a boy I barely knew. I spent all of college, ignoring guys who wanted to date me in lieu of putting Art Boys and Music Boys on unreachable pedestals. I graduated from that to literally getting involved with a boy who was dating another girl and here I find myself again, trying to attach myself to a boy who doesn't care about me, who doesn't know how to care for me and who chooses time and time again to be careless with my heart.

In the pit of my stomach, I know there is no there there between Matt and I. Not in the way he looks at me or talks to me or treats me and yet I continue to cling to the idea of him while the reality keeps smacking me in the face.After everything he has said and done, you would think I would scoff at any more attempts to have this boy in my life. I do not always feel worthy of love, so i'll surround myself with individuals who cannot provide me with it. And i think this has more to do with my anxiety of not measuring up to people. I am petrified of letting people down, so I surround myself with people who will let me down.  I have a tendency of wanting to prove that I belong and am worthy of love but only by people who do not deserve it. I am stubborn to a fault and while I don't want us to fit together anymore...I am frustrated that we don't. On paper this should have been a very easy coupling and the fact that is hasn't been confuses me to the point where I will be unkind to my heart to make a point.

As expected the trip to the zoo was a disaster. We both agreed to meet at the zoo separately after his failed attempt to get me to drive us there. He made a joke that since he was the "birthday boy" he was nominating me to be the driver for the day. I immediately shut this idea down on all fronts and told him i'd meet him at the zoo instead to make sure the point hit home.

We both were surprisingly on time and grabbed our respective zoo maps and decided what we wanted to see first. I was dressed pretty nicely for the trip and instead of complimenting me he told me he didn't understand why girls had to dress up every time they went someplace and that he prefers his woman to dress more for comfort than fashion. Of course the comment infuriated me and hours later when my feet were bleeding from walking so much, I resented his comment even more. We grab lunch at what can only be described as a Jurassic park themed restaurant along with hundreds of screaming kids and teens obviously on field trips. As Peacocks walked around freely accosting people for food. The lunch as going well enough until he had to tell me that he actually invited more people "but you were like the only one who showed up, so i guess that's okay"

By the end of the trip we were both more than happy to head home. It was a long ass day and there are only so many times you can oh and aww at adorable animals before the claustrophobia and leg cramps kick in.The ride home was a little awkward as he openly texted his ex-girlfriend during the trip. He was concerned that he had upset her by not including her in some plans he had this weekend. My feet hurt so much I couldn't even muster up the anger and annoyance at my current predicament. He was concerned that he had upset his ex gf's feeling (whose physical attributes are everything he has told me he loves in a woman. She is the girl whose standards he lives by) while hanging out with a girl whose feelings he was currently hurting.

When I finally reached my stop, I climbed over him (because he refused to stand up) and gave him the bday card and small notebook i hid from him the whole day (hoping by the time i'd given it to him we'd be at a better place) It was small gift and practically cost the slice of pizza but it was more than he deserved after everything. I limped home and then collapsed into bed with a mixture of regret and disappointment claiming the last bit of self respect I have. I think he texted me later to thank me for hanging out with him on his birthday but we haven't talked since and I am trying to be okay with this because as much as he offers me nothing, he reminds me daily that I offer him nothing in return.

I am not heartbroken or even sad. I am just disappointed, drearily so, and perplexed because of the wasted time.  I am can only speak for myself but the way things sort of sputtered out is a let down of gigantic proportion. One minute he is telling me how sexually adventurous he is and how attentive he is to letting his lady friend "come first" and the next we are awkwardly trying to avoid touching each other at the zoo. We almost got separated by a hoard of children trying to push their way to see some adorable baby gorillas play. He held out his arm for me to grab and I clumsily caught his hand instead before he yanked his hand away quickly as if I had cooties.

And I get it, yes I could have been a little more assertive but he didn't make it easy with his constant assertions that "short women, women who like cats, women who have or have had short hair, women who want kids and women who aren't great at math" aren't his thing. The more and more he opened his mouth and expressed his opinion, the less inclined I was to even attempt undressing in front of this boy.  It was as if he were making a point of "not being into me" despite the time we spent together., so I wasn't trying to make a bigger fool of myself.

But I am a fool. The last six months have been foolish and I have been careless with my own heart once again.

Le Sigh.