Patients pays

Tonight I walked into work 5 minutes late for my 5pm-11:30pm shift. Fighting the traffic after a hectic day is the pits, but at least I knew my shift would be interesting because it was a change of scene, I was scheduled in lingerie tonight. My coworker who had been there all day was flustered and the place was an absolute disaster. We had a full rack of bras, panties, robes, pajamas, and under garments made to smooth out muffin top and other unsightly fat by cramming it into a small, tight tank top (basically, modern day girdles) that had to be put away.

My section also encompasses the Woman's (plus size) clothing and maternity ware, so I took a handful of sweaters and dresses that needed to be put away and began the monotony of my day. But, there is no such thing as a normal night in retail...a lesson I was quickly reminded of this evening.

A woman who must have been in her 60's or 70's peaked her head around a corner as I passed by and summoned me over. She whispered that she had unfortunately had an accident (I noticed her sweatshirt was tied around her waist and she was conveniently wearing black pants so there was no evidence of her leakage) and was shopping for new pants and underwear. Together we scoured the racks for a pant, size 24 short. After finding two pairs of black and one in navy, plus multiple tops she handed me the clothing and asked me to start her a fitting room. Typically we don't practice this particular form of customer service, as there is no fitting room attendant...but I obliged because I felt sorry for her.

Over 20 minutes later this poor woman hobbled up to the checkout counter with an armload of women's suits and asked me to take her to her fitting room. I showed her to the room and hung all of her clothing neatly and began to back out when she asked a very strange request. I have paraphrased:

"Honey, will you get me some black panties and a bag for my wet clothes?" - her
"Uh, yeah, sure. What cut and size?" - me
"I don't know my size, I took off my old panties and threw them in the garbage before I could check. Just get me the equivalent of a 24 pant...and I don't like them tight on my legs."
"Okay, I'll be right back."

I search high and low and found her 2 different kinds, one cotton and one nylon. She didn't like them and sent me out again looking for a packaged brand of cotton. I looked and looked, but we only go up to size 10 (3X) and she needed a 12 (5X). I returned to tell her this and she decided she needed a lace detail on the leg, so once again I went to look. Triumphantly, I returned with a black, size 12, lace pantie...but she noticed if you bought 3 there was a price break so I was sent out for a neutral and white pair.

By this time I was getting frustrated and my poor coworker had to manage all of the other customers and straightening duties in our section single handed. I hurried and grabbed her panties and knocked on her fitting room door. She snatched up the panties and asked me for an opinion on her blouse. We decided it was too big, so she sent me out to get a smaller size. By this time, two hours of my shift had passed and my coworker was on her break. A woman with a return was waiting at the counter and another had asked me to help her look for a good bra (a question I loathe...NO ONE HAS THE SAME DEFINITION OF A GOOD BRA!) so I scurried into the fitting room, handed off the shirt and rushed out before she could send me on another errand.

I helped the other customers, my coworker came back from break and it was my turn to take a lunch break of 30 minutes. I drank an orange juice and ate some chocolate covered pretzels while letting my feet rest and then went back to work....and to my surprise, Mrs. Pee-panties-slave-driver was waiting at the checkout counter. She wanted to be sure I got commission and wouldn't let my coworker ring her up despite the fact that regular associates are not paid on commission. Either way, I helped her and tried to ignore the plastic bag of soaked pants sitting on the counter. I was polite and patient as she detailed countless stories of buying panties and everyone being shocked at the large sizes she wears. I wanted to tell her that they were probably shocked because she was buying clothes that were at least 2 sizes too large, but I just smiled and nodded and laughed wherever it was appropriate.

Once we had all of her clothing hung in dress bags and double bagged (so her husband wouldn't be able to see how many items she purchased) she asked me to help her to her car. She had left her husband waiting in the car while she shopped for at least three hours! She didn't want to call him to come help her because she didn't want him a) to see how much she purchased and b) to get out of the warm car for fear that he might be angry. So I grabbed her bags and we slowly made the trek to the elevator, down and into the parking lot and then out to her car where I placed the bag in the back seat. I was ready for this lady to drive away, but I said, "It's been a pleasure helping you out tonight, Ma'am." to which she replied by whipping out her wallet and offering up a $5 bill! I refused because, after all, this was all in my job description AND we aren't allowed to accept tips. She smiled a huge smile and said, "I wish there were more young people like you."

I made her night and she made mine. Often times the most demanding customers are the most appreciative. Tonight I was patient and polite and smiled because I was supposed to...but as she drove off with her husband the smile was still plastered to my face. Sometimes my job is extremely rewarding. Tonight was uniquely wonderful and happiness arose from pissed pants. Who would have guessed?