You know what? There are times when I like working at Wal-Mart.
For example, this happened well before the annoying events of last week: it's 9:15 on a Saturday night, the jewelry counter closes at 10:00, and I'm starting to get antsy to go home, when a customer comes up. He asks to see an engagement ring, and wants my opinion of it. I ask some of the usual questions; What kind of jewelry does she usually wear? Does she wear rings? Have you bought other jewelry for her?
He tells me that he was planning to propose the next day. This is a common level of detail for a customer to share with a sales associate.
He then tells me that he has just gotten off the phone with her, and now he isn't so sure that he wants to go through with it. You see, she was calling to check on where he was, and what he was doing, because she didn't trust him to behave himself.
This is not, in my limited experience, a common level of detail for a customer to share with a sales associate. However, I don't mind. I like listening to people sometimes, and I'm not really that busy.
I won't share with you the details of his story. It's not really my story to tell. But I will share with you the advice that I shared with him. Let me know if you think I've gotten anything wrong here:
1. Proposing to someone is not something that should necessarily come when the mood is just right. That very premise suggests that the response depends on the mood of the moment. While this makes for good t.v., especially in sitcoms (Cheers comes to mind), it is not a good way to decide your future. Because marriage (a good marriage, anyway) is not a mood thing; once you get married, you are married all the time, whether happy or sad, sick or healthy, rich or poor, etc. A marriage has to weather some rough emotions. It seems to me that if the proposal of marriage is easily tossed by these emotions, the marriage is also likely to be tossed.
2. Pray about it. All night if need be. Don't listen to music, turn on the t.v., read, or do anything else that will draw your attention. Just pray about it, and ask God for peace once you have reached the best decision. Because for many of us, that feeling of peace is the clearest way to hear God's voice.
3. Imagine your life with her. Don't imagine her changing, because you have no right to expect the person you marry to just become better because they are married to you. Is it easy (and realistic) to imagine that you are both happy? If yes, refer back to number 2. If not, another year or two of dating (on top of the three years so far) is unlikely to change that. (As a side note, you should also not expect your marriage to follow this imagined path, but I didn't go into that with him.)
4. Don't just do what other people want or expect you to do. Though your family may still be your family for the rest of your life, you have to actually live with your wife for the rest of your life. And if that relationship is solid, you can survive without the immediate approval of either family, yours or hers.
5. God is in control. There is a reason that I am closing tonight and you are here to buy a ring. God is sending you a message, though even I don't know the details of that message. And as cool as it would have been for God to have sent me a dream saying "Tell the guy yes," or "Tell the guy no," sometimes God wants us to work for the right answers.
There were other details. I shared a few relevant anecdotes from my marriage, and some methods we use to get along. He went more into depth as to his misgivings.
I joked with him at one point that I felt more like a bartender than a jewelry sales person. We were both a bit sorry that there were no alcoholic beverages to be found behind my bar.
He didn't buy a ring that night, and I'm not entirely sure what role I played in that decision. I told him that we open at seven a.m., and that if he felt right about it, he could come in and buy a ring before meeting his girlfriend. I ended up cleaning the counters as I talked with him, so I didn't leave more than five minutes past my usual time. I prayed for him as I rode home, and asked our Sunday school class the next day to pray for him, too.
I hope that he tracks me down some time to tell me how things are going. And I really hope that when he does track me down it isn't through the telescopic sight of a high-power sniper rifle. Giving advice can sometimes cause trouble, though I still feel good about what I told him.
This is a different job than anything I've done before, that's for sure. My expectations were actually quite low, and there have been times when they were met. But the times like this definitely balance them out.
Peace,
Rob
Friday, October 26, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Demolition and Grace
There was one more stressor in the week after my in-laws left. It was...
It was this story:
It was our third week of meeting as a small group in this six week program, and our group quickly became comfortable with each other. This is due in no small part to the hostess/group leader, Anna.
Anna is one of the first friends we made at First Christian Church here in Lawrence. While many members of the church took a few Sundays to warm up to us, Anna sat down and talked with us right from the start. We didn't completely understand her from the start, but she had enthusiasm. Like Horyon, she is an immigrant to the U.S. She left Poland as a political refugee during the years of the Iron Curtain. They had two children, Monica and Alex. Her husband died shortly after Alex was born, and she has raised them on her own since then.
On second thought, she would probably say that she didn't raise them on her own; she has neighbors who have treated them as family. The Church has treated them as family. They haven't been alone. And now that we are here, she has pulled us into this family without reservation, including asking us to join her small group. And now I understand her 99% of the time, and consider her a friend, moving quickly toward family.
Last Thursday we were standing around in the kitchen eating some snacks before the actual study commenced. I was about to tell about my two flat tires (this is a day before the 3rd flat) when I leaned against a hutch cabinet that wasn't.
It wasn't a hutch cabinet because the shelf sitting on top of the counter wasn't attached to it. It was just sitting there. The shelf has a solid back, so it's footprint looked like a wide, shallow 'U'. When I leaned against the side, the opposite leg of the U slid off the counter, making it extremely unstable. It fell forward, slowly at first. Someone noticed and stopped the shelf from falling, but it was too late: All of the glass and ceramic objects that had been sitting on it crashed to the floor. It was more noisy than you would expect, millions of tiny shards of glass and ceramic scattered all over the floor. Fortunately no one was hurt, though we were all shocked. For a moment the silence was deafening, then Anna said, "Well, that was only 150 year old dish."
I felt as though I had broken her life.
I stood there in shock until Horyon told me that I should help clean up. Then her kids came storming down the stairs. Monica is 13, and Alex is 9, and they wanted satisfaction: "What happened?" "Who did it?"
I lifted my hand a bit and said, "I did," but they didn't hear me, because Anna said, at the same time only louder, "The cat did it."
"I knew that cat was trouble, but you never listen to me, and now look what happened!" Monica yelled in that 13-year-old I-told-you-so tone as she headed back upstairs. Alex wanted to hunt down the cat, and proceeded to tear through the house, then the yard, perhaps planning to punish the poor, innocent cat for my crime.
Needless to say, I felt even worse. I pushed the broom in my own silence, not really noticing the conversations going on around me about how lucky we were that no one got hurt, and that it was such a good thing that there didn't seem to be much broken glass in the snacks, but it would be a good idea to chew slowly just in case.
At the end of the evening I told Anna again that I was very sorry, and she told me this:
When she was a young girl, the Soviets came, and her family was evicted from their fine, large home, only allowed to take the poorest of the furnishings. This was a huge drop in status for them, but they learned to let go of their possessions. Then when she moved to the States to be with her husband, who had left earlier, the only way to get out was by applying for political asylum. The result of that move was leaving everything that she couldn't carry with her in her suitcases. Not just her stuff, but her friends, family and culture, were left behind. "And," she told me, "God taught me to get along without these things. Now perhaps God is telling me that I am becoming too attached to my things again."
She didn't just forgive me, she told me that the precious things on her shelf were not as important as friends and family. It would be wrong to let their destruction get in the way of our relationship.
And she hugged me, and told me it was OK, and that she was only grateful that no one was hurt.
I can't tell this story of grace without getting a bit teary-eyed. I know in my mind that God has forgiven me, and forgives me, for much worse, more deliberate sins. Sometimes I feel that forgiveness, and sometimes I just have to believe that it's there. But it is rare to find that Christ-like attitude here, even among other Christians. Anna didn't even think about it, she just forgave me. She lied to her own children because she knew that they wouldn't be able to forgive as easily as she had. She demonstrated how we Christians are supposed to act. Honestly, I can't remember a thing from that Bible study, and it's been only six days. But I will never forget what Anna taught me:
Peace,
Rob
It was this story:
It was our third week of meeting as a small group in this six week program, and our group quickly became comfortable with each other. This is due in no small part to the hostess/group leader, Anna.
Anna is one of the first friends we made at First Christian Church here in Lawrence. While many members of the church took a few Sundays to warm up to us, Anna sat down and talked with us right from the start. We didn't completely understand her from the start, but she had enthusiasm. Like Horyon, she is an immigrant to the U.S. She left Poland as a political refugee during the years of the Iron Curtain. They had two children, Monica and Alex. Her husband died shortly after Alex was born, and she has raised them on her own since then.
On second thought, she would probably say that she didn't raise them on her own; she has neighbors who have treated them as family. The Church has treated them as family. They haven't been alone. And now that we are here, she has pulled us into this family without reservation, including asking us to join her small group. And now I understand her 99% of the time, and consider her a friend, moving quickly toward family.
Last Thursday we were standing around in the kitchen eating some snacks before the actual study commenced. I was about to tell about my two flat tires (this is a day before the 3rd flat) when I leaned against a hutch cabinet that wasn't.
It wasn't a hutch cabinet because the shelf sitting on top of the counter wasn't attached to it. It was just sitting there. The shelf has a solid back, so it's footprint looked like a wide, shallow 'U'. When I leaned against the side, the opposite leg of the U slid off the counter, making it extremely unstable. It fell forward, slowly at first. Someone noticed and stopped the shelf from falling, but it was too late: All of the glass and ceramic objects that had been sitting on it crashed to the floor. It was more noisy than you would expect, millions of tiny shards of glass and ceramic scattered all over the floor. Fortunately no one was hurt, though we were all shocked. For a moment the silence was deafening, then Anna said, "Well, that was only 150 year old dish."
I felt as though I had broken her life.
I stood there in shock until Horyon told me that I should help clean up. Then her kids came storming down the stairs. Monica is 13, and Alex is 9, and they wanted satisfaction: "What happened?" "Who did it?"
I lifted my hand a bit and said, "I did," but they didn't hear me, because Anna said, at the same time only louder, "The cat did it."
"I knew that cat was trouble, but you never listen to me, and now look what happened!" Monica yelled in that 13-year-old I-told-you-so tone as she headed back upstairs. Alex wanted to hunt down the cat, and proceeded to tear through the house, then the yard, perhaps planning to punish the poor, innocent cat for my crime.
Needless to say, I felt even worse. I pushed the broom in my own silence, not really noticing the conversations going on around me about how lucky we were that no one got hurt, and that it was such a good thing that there didn't seem to be much broken glass in the snacks, but it would be a good idea to chew slowly just in case.
At the end of the evening I told Anna again that I was very sorry, and she told me this:
When she was a young girl, the Soviets came, and her family was evicted from their fine, large home, only allowed to take the poorest of the furnishings. This was a huge drop in status for them, but they learned to let go of their possessions. Then when she moved to the States to be with her husband, who had left earlier, the only way to get out was by applying for political asylum. The result of that move was leaving everything that she couldn't carry with her in her suitcases. Not just her stuff, but her friends, family and culture, were left behind. "And," she told me, "God taught me to get along without these things. Now perhaps God is telling me that I am becoming too attached to my things again."
She didn't just forgive me, she told me that the precious things on her shelf were not as important as friends and family. It would be wrong to let their destruction get in the way of our relationship.
And she hugged me, and told me it was OK, and that she was only grateful that no one was hurt.
I can't tell this story of grace without getting a bit teary-eyed. I know in my mind that God has forgiven me, and forgives me, for much worse, more deliberate sins. Sometimes I feel that forgiveness, and sometimes I just have to believe that it's there. But it is rare to find that Christ-like attitude here, even among other Christians. Anna didn't even think about it, she just forgave me. She lied to her own children because she knew that they wouldn't be able to forgive as easily as she had. She demonstrated how we Christians are supposed to act. Honestly, I can't remember a thing from that Bible study, and it's been only six days. But I will never forget what Anna taught me:
Peace,
Rob
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Gettting Rid of the Third Wheel
In my previous post, I mentioned getting two flat tires. By the end of the week it was three. Fortunately, the third only set me back $10 and a bit of inconvenience.
I ride my bicycle to work whenever I can. It's a nice ride, just short of four and a half miles, with just a few mild hills to keep me from relaxing too much. The ride home finishes uphill, no matter what route I take short of adding an additional couple of miles, which just isn't going to happen after 10:30 at night. It usually takes me about 25 minutes to get to work, and 35 or 40 to get home. On the way home, I sometimes ride and think about what's happened at work. Other times I ride and pray. And sometimes I just ride. When the moon is new, there are long stretches where my headlamp is the only illumination. No sound but the wind in the trees and the soft hum of the bike gears. It's kind of disappointing to get out into the stretches that follow streets, even though the street lights allow me to see more of the road ahead. All but the last few blocks of my ride are on a six foot wide sidewalk that is well maintained. Aside from the cobwebs and bugs I end up plowing through (and occasionally eating), there are no obstructions.
But Friday, on my way to work, my rear tire seemed a bit low, so after work I added a bit of air. But it didn't stay in. It seemed to be hissing out through the pump, so I pumped more. More hissed out, and when I took away the pump, the tire went flat. I didn't have a spare tube or patch kit, much less the desire to take off the rear wheel and deal with it. So I went inside and called Horyon.
She came and got me, with Maxine sleeping in her car seat, and we stopped for groceries. I sat in the car with Maxine, because I have trouble sticking to the list. Whatever. So it was a late night.
The next day I spent the morning at our church's work day painting a hallway, then getting my bicycle tire fixed. I thought about just buying the tube and changing it myself to save $5, but had the mechanic do it. I figured she could get it in correctly the first time, and faster than I could to boot. Turned out to be a good choice. She found that the wheel had a rough patch that had rubbed through the tube, necessitating the repair. She filed and sanded down the rough patch, so hopefully I won't have to go through this again soon.
There are two more stories I need to tell in my attempt to communicate how this past week has gone, but I just don't have the energy to tackle it right now. And I have a test on Wednesday. So I'm leaving you with two titles for now:
Demolition and Grace
A Match Made in Wal-Mart
Stay tuned.
Peace,
Rob
I ride my bicycle to work whenever I can. It's a nice ride, just short of four and a half miles, with just a few mild hills to keep me from relaxing too much. The ride home finishes uphill, no matter what route I take short of adding an additional couple of miles, which just isn't going to happen after 10:30 at night. It usually takes me about 25 minutes to get to work, and 35 or 40 to get home. On the way home, I sometimes ride and think about what's happened at work. Other times I ride and pray. And sometimes I just ride. When the moon is new, there are long stretches where my headlamp is the only illumination. No sound but the wind in the trees and the soft hum of the bike gears. It's kind of disappointing to get out into the stretches that follow streets, even though the street lights allow me to see more of the road ahead. All but the last few blocks of my ride are on a six foot wide sidewalk that is well maintained. Aside from the cobwebs and bugs I end up plowing through (and occasionally eating), there are no obstructions.
But Friday, on my way to work, my rear tire seemed a bit low, so after work I added a bit of air. But it didn't stay in. It seemed to be hissing out through the pump, so I pumped more. More hissed out, and when I took away the pump, the tire went flat. I didn't have a spare tube or patch kit, much less the desire to take off the rear wheel and deal with it. So I went inside and called Horyon.
She came and got me, with Maxine sleeping in her car seat, and we stopped for groceries. I sat in the car with Maxine, because I have trouble sticking to the list. Whatever. So it was a late night.
The next day I spent the morning at our church's work day painting a hallway, then getting my bicycle tire fixed. I thought about just buying the tube and changing it myself to save $5, but had the mechanic do it. I figured she could get it in correctly the first time, and faster than I could to boot. Turned out to be a good choice. She found that the wheel had a rough patch that had rubbed through the tube, necessitating the repair. She filed and sanded down the rough patch, so hopefully I won't have to go through this again soon.
There are two more stories I need to tell in my attempt to communicate how this past week has gone, but I just don't have the energy to tackle it right now. And I have a test on Wednesday. So I'm leaving you with two titles for now:
Demolition and Grace
A Match Made in Wal-Mart
Stay tuned.
Peace,
Rob
A Good, but Long Month
As you know, Horyon's parents have been living with us for about a month now. A little under two weeks into their stay with us I moved my computer out into the living room so that I could get my homework done late at night without bothering them, as well as sorting through photos, and playing an occasional game or two of spider solitaire. Unfortunately, there is no internet connection where I've set up the computer, so I've had to make do with occasional visits to Horyon's laptop in our bedroom to check email, and I haven't really looked at Roblog in quite some time. So this entry will just have to do to make up for the past month.
It's been a fun month, especially for Maxine, but a bit hard on us. We gave up our bedroom and bed so that Horyon's parents could sleep comfortably. It's hard enough being in a foreign country even if you can get a good night's sleep, but when your bed is uncomfortable, and in a room with too much light, and out in the open where anyone walking through in the morning will keep you from continuing to sleep, you start to feel pretty frayed around the edges. So they seem to be doing all right.
Horyon and I have been sleeping on our sofa bed in the living room. We are fortunate to have it, as Mom and Dad offered it to us when we moved in. When we accepted, I laughingly pointed out that any guests we planned to host overnight would find it to be an uncomfortable bed, in a room with too much light, and out in the open where anyone walking through in the morning would keep them from continuing to sleep, making them that much less likely to stay one more night. Ha ha.
So we have been spending every night in an uncomfortable bed, in... you get the idea.
And I was right. I'm ready to leave.
It's not as bad as I expected, but this is a long time to have four adults and a little girl under one roof with only two bedrooms. (Our house was constructed with three bedrooms, but one has become Horyon's sewing room.)
What makes it even more annoying is that I have lived in more crowded conditions, in smaller spaces, on less comfortable beds, and I was OK with it. I did a training in far Eastern Nepal for a month, during which I slept on a bed made of planks with nothing but rolled up towel for a pillow and my mosquito net for a combination blanket and mattress. My regular bed back in those days was about four inches of foam pad over boards. And mostly I did OK with that. I'm not sure if I wake up more sore now than I ever did then, or if I just don't remember how miserable I was. I'm sure it has nothing to do with getting older.
Last Sunday when we got out of church, we found a special surprise waiting for us: flat tire, front wheel, passenger side. I suggested that perhaps this would be a good time for Horyon to practice changing a tire, and she agreed. A couple of church families stayed around while we did this. The spare was running a bit low on air, but it took us to the nearest gas station. I took it in to Wal-Mart, where I work, to be patched. They couldn't, because it had been punctured on the sidewall. What the heck. I didn't really need to spend that $75 on other stuff anyway. And I went ahead and got my oil changed while I was at it.
It had just been mentioned in church that morning that tires were being slashed in the church parking lot. Looks like we had become the latest victims.
The next day we took Horyon's parents to the airport to say goodbye. It was a very emotional time. I found it very moving that Maxine didn't really understand what was happening. It's been a few days now, and she is still pretty pissed at us for getting rid of Grandpa and Grandma, but at that time she didn't get it.
When we got back from the airport it was about 11:30. Horyon wanted to go shopping with our Korean neighbor, so they were going to take me to work then go shopping. At 2:30, when we went to get in the car, guess what I found? The rear tire on the driver's side was flat. For those of you keeping score, that's two tires in as many days.
I was not happy at first. Then it occurred to me that the second tire had probably been holed at the same time as the first. I had done some serious highway driving on a tire that was going flat. When we stopped at the filling station for air, I had added some to that tire. Maybe that's what kept it going. Because when I had it changed, they told me that it also had a puncture in the sidewall, a lot like the first one. I can only speculate that God assigned some poor angel to stick his finger in that second hole for the 24 hours it took to deflate.
So we spent an unplanned $150 this week on tires. And the tires on the van were pretty new to start with, too. Makes it all the more annoying.
So one spiritual exercise I'm working on this week is forgiving the person who did this to our car. They are undoubtedly suffering from worse things than an extra $150 out of their budget for the month. Maybe they've been stepped on by a church, which they see as The Church. Maybe someone from this church was unkind to them at some point. Or maybe their idea of fun is to destroy things. Whatever the case may be, I know that they need my forgiveness more than my spite.
The rest of this week has also been somewhat crazy, but I'm afraid that if I start getting into it here I'll never get this posted.
Peace,
Rob
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
That's My Girl
Maxine has been attending Small World, a volunteer daycare for about a week. Today was her third time, and Horyon was very proud when she got home. She told me, "Maxine made another girl cry today!"
I did one of those cartoonish double-takes, as making other kids cry is not usually considered a good thing. But in this case, the care-givers all agreed that Maxine was in the right.
First a little background: Small World is an organization sponsored by one of the Presbyterian churches here in town. The workers are mostly women, and many of the children have one or both parents from a foreign country. One of their goals is to give low-cost language and cultural training to women who don't speak English very well. They have classes and child care on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and today was the third day for Horyon and Maxine. Men are not allowed in the classrooms, as many of the women involved are Muslims. I visited last week and was gently, but sternly informed of this.
There is another little girl named Lason at Small World. She is around three years old, has dark skin, and is very big for her age. Everyone says she looks like a boxer, and she has a tendency to bully other children a bit. Today Lason's mother brought in her car seat and left it in the classroom. Maxine and Lason were playing, with Maxine sitting in the car seat. When Maxine tried to stand up, Lason pushed her back down. Maxine got that focused, slightly red look that shows that her pressure cooker is on, but she didn't cry, or scream, or anything else to show that she was upset.
But when Lason wanted Maxine to get out of the seat, Maxine refused. Lason pulled on her arm, her clothes, even her head, but Maxine just went all Rosa Parks on her, sitting and refusing to move. Until Lason cried. The other caregivers said that in her two years at Small World, Lason had never cried: this was a first.
In closing, we have a camera now. Two, actually. Horyon's parents gave us a new one, and the old one was repaired for about $50. Here are a couple of recent pics:
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Customer Interactions
I am new to retail sales. I've never done anything quite like this before, and I'm kind of enjoying it. Especially dealing with the customers. I'm not sure whether I've just had good luck, or whether I have a soporific quality about me, but I haven't really had to deal with any customers that I would call "belligerent" or "trouble-makers". Even when I've been stuck at the register, unable to get it to do what I need it to do, they have been patient with me. I'm still working on balancing priorities, but the pace has mostly been reasonable.
Mostly. Two days ago my coworker Julianna went on her lunch break around 5:00. (They call it lunch no matter what time you take it. One more bit of Wal-Mart culture that I will probably never understand.) For the first 30 minutes, I walked around straightening items on the shelves, picking up the random bits of jetsam that Wal-Mart shoppers tend to leave willy-nilly as they wander through the store. Then a customer came. And another. And another. At one point I was helping one while three others were waiting. Fortunately none of them asked me to do things that I don't know how to do, like putting something on layaway or doing a back-flip, but they kept me hopping. Of course Julianna came back from her break as I was finishing up with the last customer.
They were all very nice about waiting to be helped. One of them even told me to go take care of another customer while I was in the middle of helping her.
This lady was something else. I had seen her earlier in the store, riding one of the little vehicles Wal-Mart has for customers who have trouble getting around. She had a tattoo that I found to be almost offensive. It made a political statement that I disagreed with, and I found myself thinking that she was probably a very simple person, and that maybe I was lucky I didn't have to deal with her.
Still, I don't let that kind of thought affect how I deal with people, so I offered to help her just like any other customer. She wanted to return a watch that she didn't like (though she used more colorful than that to say so) and get a new band for her old watch, which her husband had given to her before he died, and which she knew how to operate. She spoke in an accent that I couldn't quite place, Eastern European somewhere. It reminded me of our church friend who immigrated from Poland. And she talked a lot.
She was quite patient with me, and let me help stop to help other customers. And those customers were also patient as I dealt with this woman. I understand that as we approach Christmas the level of politeness drops considerably, but so far I can't complain.
(Speaking of holidays, we've already got our Halloween stuff out. Can you believe it?)
In the course of getting a watch band that she was happy with, I learned that she had married a G.I. to come to America. I asked if this was the same husband who had died a year ago, and she told me this:
"No. The G.I. was a mistake. He was my ticket out of Russia, but it was a mistake to marry him. My husband who died last year was my true love. My destiny. And I didn't think I could go on without him, but here I am."
I'm trying to fit a pin for a watch band, and I feel like I should be having a beer with this woman. I felt bad for judging her based on her tattoo, and was genuinely happy that she had come to the jewelry section while I was on duty.
By this point, Julianna had returned, and all of the other customers had been dealt with one way or another (none of them lethally). When I wrapped up my sale with the Russian woman, she shook my hand and thanked me. I sincerely told her that I hoped to see her again, and she promised to say hi if she did. And so I was once again reminded that people with whom I disagree are still very much people, and that I should not judge a book by its cover.
I think the best thing about this job is that every day it gives me many opportunities to practice loving my neighbors. In some ways they are ideal opportunities, because they don't last long. I get a fresh start with each new customer.
On a slightly different note, Wal-Mart encourages us to interact in a friendly manner with customers, and if there is only one customer, there's no reason not to have an extended conversation. However, problems arise when one customer is ignored over another. People have actually been fired over this. It puts me in the uncomfortable position of telling someone, "I'm sorry, but I need to help another customer." I hate having to do that.
In closing, I'm learning my way around the cash register. The problems of three days ago are history, and I have only my future problems to deal with. Yesterday I was on my own from 6 p.m. until closing at 10 p.m. No problems. I am supposed to take a 15 minute break sometime in the evening, so I called in a manager to take care of jewelry stuff while I was gone. Things were slow until then, and when I got back she was helping someone, a customer was waiting, and one more customer came before she left. I also had a small register problem, which she quickly resolved.
I swear, once I figure out everything on the register, I will have achieved some sort of god-like status, and I will be ready to take over the universe.
Mostly. Two days ago my coworker Julianna went on her lunch break around 5:00. (They call it lunch no matter what time you take it. One more bit of Wal-Mart culture that I will probably never understand.) For the first 30 minutes, I walked around straightening items on the shelves, picking up the random bits of jetsam that Wal-Mart shoppers tend to leave willy-nilly as they wander through the store. Then a customer came. And another. And another. At one point I was helping one while three others were waiting. Fortunately none of them asked me to do things that I don't know how to do, like putting something on layaway or doing a back-flip, but they kept me hopping. Of course Julianna came back from her break as I was finishing up with the last customer.
They were all very nice about waiting to be helped. One of them even told me to go take care of another customer while I was in the middle of helping her.
This lady was something else. I had seen her earlier in the store, riding one of the little vehicles Wal-Mart has for customers who have trouble getting around. She had a tattoo that I found to be almost offensive. It made a political statement that I disagreed with, and I found myself thinking that she was probably a very simple person, and that maybe I was lucky I didn't have to deal with her.
Still, I don't let that kind of thought affect how I deal with people, so I offered to help her just like any other customer. She wanted to return a watch that she didn't like (though she used more colorful than that to say so) and get a new band for her old watch, which her husband had given to her before he died, and which she knew how to operate. She spoke in an accent that I couldn't quite place, Eastern European somewhere. It reminded me of our church friend who immigrated from Poland. And she talked a lot.
She was quite patient with me, and let me help stop to help other customers. And those customers were also patient as I dealt with this woman. I understand that as we approach Christmas the level of politeness drops considerably, but so far I can't complain.
(Speaking of holidays, we've already got our Halloween stuff out. Can you believe it?)
In the course of getting a watch band that she was happy with, I learned that she had married a G.I. to come to America. I asked if this was the same husband who had died a year ago, and she told me this:
"No. The G.I. was a mistake. He was my ticket out of Russia, but it was a mistake to marry him. My husband who died last year was my true love. My destiny. And I didn't think I could go on without him, but here I am."
I'm trying to fit a pin for a watch band, and I feel like I should be having a beer with this woman. I felt bad for judging her based on her tattoo, and was genuinely happy that she had come to the jewelry section while I was on duty.
By this point, Julianna had returned, and all of the other customers had been dealt with one way or another (none of them lethally). When I wrapped up my sale with the Russian woman, she shook my hand and thanked me. I sincerely told her that I hoped to see her again, and she promised to say hi if she did. And so I was once again reminded that people with whom I disagree are still very much people, and that I should not judge a book by its cover.
I think the best thing about this job is that every day it gives me many opportunities to practice loving my neighbors. In some ways they are ideal opportunities, because they don't last long. I get a fresh start with each new customer.
On a slightly different note, Wal-Mart encourages us to interact in a friendly manner with customers, and if there is only one customer, there's no reason not to have an extended conversation. However, problems arise when one customer is ignored over another. People have actually been fired over this. It puts me in the uncomfortable position of telling someone, "I'm sorry, but I need to help another customer." I hate having to do that.
In closing, I'm learning my way around the cash register. The problems of three days ago are history, and I have only my future problems to deal with. Yesterday I was on my own from 6 p.m. until closing at 10 p.m. No problems. I am supposed to take a 15 minute break sometime in the evening, so I called in a manager to take care of jewelry stuff while I was gone. Things were slow until then, and when I got back she was helping someone, a customer was waiting, and one more customer came before she left. I also had a small register problem, which she quickly resolved.
I swear, once I figure out everything on the register, I will have achieved some sort of god-like status, and I will be ready to take over the universe.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Advantage of having Two Drivers
First of all, this isn't a golf post. It's a follow-up to my latest post about Horyon getting her driver's license (congratulations again, honey!).
Thursday I rode my bike downtown to get my free 30-day tune-up. It's been a good deal longer than 30 days since I bought the bike, and something like 600 miles of riding, but they don't mind. Good guys over there at Sunflower.
When I brought it in, they said it would be finished by the next morning. I wasn't sure how to get home without the bike I rode in on, until I remembered:
My wife is awesome
because she has a driver's license and wants to get as much practice as she can. I wanted to give as much time for Maxine to continue her nap as possible, so I called home around four o'clock, and Horyon agreed to meet me at South Park.
(Lawrence geography note: just South of downtown Lawrence there is a park called South Park. It has been there and had that name since long before the t.v. program called "South Park" or the network on which it is aired existed. Still, it makes me hum the theme song from "South Park" and giggle a bit every time I go near it.)
She came and got me, and we had planned to eat at the Korean restaurant downtown. Unfortunately, when I got there I found that all the signs were gone, and inside the fixtures were being torn out. No more Korean restaurant in Lawrence.
So we went to dinner at Buffalo Bob's Smokehouse. Big pile of meat with curly fries piled on top of that, pickles, a fritter, and sides of baked beans and cottage cheese. I'm not sure why I like the cottage cheese as a side. It seems kind of wimpy next to the other food on the plate. On the other hand, it's kind of a good palate cleanser.
When we got home there was a message from Sunflower telling me that my bike was finished. I should have gone back to check after dinner. Or I could have given them my cell phone number. Or they could have told me it would only be a couple of hours. Oh well. Horyon dropped me off the next day and I rode home in time to go to work.
In other news, Horyon's parents arrive at KCI Sunday afternoon. Tomorrow. They will stay with us for a month. Maxine will have a great time, I'm sure. The rest of us may feel a little crowded. However, it will be good for us to be together as a family. I just wish we had a slightly bigger house to be together in.
Thursday I rode my bike downtown to get my free 30-day tune-up. It's been a good deal longer than 30 days since I bought the bike, and something like 600 miles of riding, but they don't mind. Good guys over there at Sunflower.
When I brought it in, they said it would be finished by the next morning. I wasn't sure how to get home without the bike I rode in on, until I remembered:
My wife is awesome
because she has a driver's license and wants to get as much practice as she can. I wanted to give as much time for Maxine to continue her nap as possible, so I called home around four o'clock, and Horyon agreed to meet me at South Park.
(Lawrence geography note: just South of downtown Lawrence there is a park called South Park. It has been there and had that name since long before the t.v. program called "South Park" or the network on which it is aired existed. Still, it makes me hum the theme song from "South Park" and giggle a bit every time I go near it.)
She came and got me, and we had planned to eat at the Korean restaurant downtown. Unfortunately, when I got there I found that all the signs were gone, and inside the fixtures were being torn out. No more Korean restaurant in Lawrence.
So we went to dinner at Buffalo Bob's Smokehouse. Big pile of meat with curly fries piled on top of that, pickles, a fritter, and sides of baked beans and cottage cheese. I'm not sure why I like the cottage cheese as a side. It seems kind of wimpy next to the other food on the plate. On the other hand, it's kind of a good palate cleanser.
When we got home there was a message from Sunflower telling me that my bike was finished. I should have gone back to check after dinner. Or I could have given them my cell phone number. Or they could have told me it would only be a couple of hours. Oh well. Horyon dropped me off the next day and I rode home in time to go to work.
In other news, Horyon's parents arrive at KCI Sunday afternoon. Tomorrow. They will stay with us for a month. Maxine will have a great time, I'm sure. The rest of us may feel a little crowded. However, it will be good for us to be together as a family. I just wish we had a slightly bigger house to be together in.
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