I quickly found myself settling into my new job at Sneaker Heaven. Each day, I had a chance to wander around the store, talk to potential customers and look out into the mall. One of my pastimes was focusing on Coffee Kiosk. This kiosk, directly across from Sneaker Heaven, was a chick magnet. Cute women and MILFs, in particular, seemed to hang out there. It seemed they shared a common interest, they liked whipped cream on top of their drinks. They also really liked what looked like iced coffee. I always secretly prayed that the hot ones would walk in here looking for some athletic gear.
Peaches and I were becoming very close friends. When I wasn’t staring out of the store at Coffee Kiosk, we would usually just hang out talking around the yoga pants carousel. Peaches made me laugh. Well, that is, when she wasn’t pissed off. I had no idea why she was angry sometimes.
Occasionally, I would hit on Peaches. All in good fun.
“Peaches, I can’t believe you are working here,” I said.
“Why?”
“You are just too fine, girl, uh-huh” I said, imitating a black girl.
“You’re crazy,” Peaches said, “You think I shouldn’t be here. You’re a lawyer. What are you doing here? What, you’re so rich you just want to work at Sneaker Heaven and hang out with the Sisters? See if you can get some black bootie?”
“I wish . . . you offering?” I said.
“Hell, no!”
A customer walked into the store. Not a MILF or a cute, young, mall rat. Just your ordinary, fifty-something lady. Peaches sauntered over and asked the customer if she needed some help. She held up a pair of powder-blue Trail Sneakers.
“Do you have these in a five?” The lady asked.
“Let me check,” Peaches said.
“You don’t have to, Peaches. Miss, we usually carry these in a five, but we are sold out. We’ll be getting a new shipment in on the twenty-sixth, but may I suggest the Lightning Trail Blazers? They are actually better than the one in your hand, cost less, and I happen to think they look nicer.”
This was how you sold sneakers. Shocking, huh? I’ve been studying up on this sneaker stuff. I can’t help it. I’ve got knack for numbers and spreadsheets. I had been following the incoming shipments since I started working here, and I’ve been spending some time in the back warehouse getting acquainted with the store’s current stock. I’ve got a pretty good memory, and it was proving beneficial, because I knew what we had in stock most of the time and what was coming in on the next shipment.
“Do you have the Lightning in a size five?” The woman asked.
“Indeed, we do. Have a seat, and I’ll be back in a second,” I said.
Peaches was looking on - and fuming.
The woman tried on the sneakers, walked around the store a bit, stared at her foot in the little mirror on the floor, and then said. “These feel great. I’ll take them.”
“Great choice, miss,” I said. You never want to use the term “ma’am.” “Miss” makes ladies of a certain age feel young. “Ma’am” makes them feel like their mother.
When the woman left, Peaches went crazy, “I can’t believe you stole that customer from me.”
“C’mon, I didn’t steal her. I just knew we didn’t have any more of the regular Trail sneakers. I suggested a different pair, that’s all. That’s how you sell shit.”
“But, damn, I need to make sales so I can make money for college. You think eight dollars an hour is going to cut it. I need the commission. I don’t have a law degree like you,” Peaches said.
“Look, I don’t want to take away your sales. You’re damn good at selling sneakers. I’m sorry,” I patted Peaches on the back, “I want you to be able to pay for college. I’m really sorry.”
Jesus. Office politics. What are you gonna do?
I was quickly becoming well-acquainted with the latest styles of female athletic footwear, as well as apparel. Without so much as asking a fellow co-worker for help, or even strolling to the back of the store, I could tell a customer if we had their sneaker size. This skill was saving me energy, and making quite an impression on my manager. Jim even told me that he was impressed with both me and my work. High praise from a pimply, twenty-one year-old.
By the end of my first month on the job I had achieved the coveted ‘Employee of the Month’ title. I was well on my way up the old corporate ladder, this time on my own terms. Peaches, who had been an employee at Sneaker Heaven for the past nine months, had never lost Employee of the Month. She had been the undisputed queen of sneaker sales since she joined, but not this month. This month she sold more sneakers than she had ever sold before. Unfortunately, that was the second largest number of sneakers sold that month. Yours truly had sold over 150 pairs of sneakers in a thirty-day period. I think that it is a record.
Jim called me in his office to have a chat, “David, you did very good this month. I mean, you sold the most shoes any single employee has ever sold in a month. You should be real proud. I called you in here because I have some bad news. I’m going to be leaving here at the end of the week. I decided to go back to school and do something with my life. And I owe it all to you. You working here showed me that if I wanted to get anything in this world I had to work for it. I couldn’t just waste my time standing in Sneaker Heaven, smoking pot in the back and listening to music. I had to take control of my life and go back to school. But anyway, that means there is going to be a manager position open, and I wanted to know if you wanted to apply for it. Of course, I can’t guarantee anything.”
Hmm, pot. I never smelled it. How did he do that? I did hear the music, though.
“What about Peaches?” I asked, “She’s a great salesperson.”
“Peaches doesn’t really have what it takes. Sure she can sell sneakers, but she doesn’t have a grasp of the big picture,” Jim answered.
“What kind of big picture could there really be? I’m sure Peaches could handle it,” I said.
“David, let me level with you here. I don’t like Peaches. She always annoys me when I’m in the back, high, trying to listen to some tunes. I don’t want her to become manager. I want you. And if you don’t want it, I’m going to let Corporate decide. I don’t think you would want that.”
Damn, a promotion. I knew that was code for more work. “Will that mean that I have to work more hours?” I asked.
“Well, yeah, but you can just sit in the back if you want. You don’t have to stand out there in front of everyone and help people try on sneakers.”
“You mean I can just sit in the back and do whatever I want?” I asked.
“That’s what I’m telling you. Dude, it seems like you have some demons you might want to work out. A little quiet time might just do the trick,” Jim was dead-on.
“Yeah, I want to apply for the manager position. I want to sit in the back.” I was getting excited.
“All right then, now we’re talking. I’ll just put your name in when I talk to Corporate later today. They should make a decision by tomorrow. I’ll let you know,” Jim was on my side. “Oh, and David, thanks again for showing me the light.”
“Yeah, no problem. Thanks.” I’m glad that my misfortune was your impetus for change.
On the bright side, this was a golden opportunity. I couldn’t believe it was falling in my lap.