Dear Rudy,
You’ll be proud to hear I had my training shift at Robins today, and for somewhere so different to Surf Zone, things sure are similar working there. There are obvious differences, like the shop is about one-tenth the size and the clientele is at least double the age. There are only four sections:
And the two people on shift share the roles of cash register, change rooms and floor duty. Manic Panic Caroline, the manager, had three different colours in her hair and she says she changes it every week. Manic Panic is the hair dye she uses, but the nickname also kind of suits her energy. She doesn’t seem as intense as Great White Molly about approaching customers, but she feels just as strongly about up-selling. At Robins we have to ask if customers want to buy a necklace or some bracelets, even if they have already browsed the accessories wall or are only there to buy pyjamas for their mum. Why? I can hear your answer in my mind: ‘capitalism’. And you’re right. But does it ever work? I know if I was going to the shop to buy new pajamas for Mum I wouldn’t be leaving with a bracelet as well—that’s absurd.
I’ve seen ads for a reality show about addictions, and I know people can be shopping addicts, so maybe they are the ones we are aiming these bracelets at. But the likelihood of a shopping addict coming in to Robins on a quiet Saturday afternoon has got to be pretty low, right? The cash register is a hundred years old and the screen decides what moments it wants to work, and what moments it would rather glitch out for a bit. I get that. I relate better to the cash register than I do to Manic Panic Caroline or any of the customers I served today. I will be better when I work my first shift with Aggie.
Remember your first shift at Coles? You brought home flowers for Mum, a newspaper for Dad and chocolate for Ollie and me. That was the nicest thing. Even if I could have afforded to do something similar (I couldn’t), there is nothing at Robins for Dad or Ollie. Still, I was inspired by your gesture, so I bought a necklace on sale for Mum. It was five bucks, and a little bit ugly, but she cried about it anyway. She really doesn’t need a lot to make her happy.
I’m going to try to do more of that. Be more like you, in some ways anyway. You made kindness look easy. It feels hard for me to think of things that people will appreciate. I am so good at getting things wrong. Thanks Rudy, for the inspiration.
Love, Erin