Failing Upward in Retail
They tried to bury me; they didn’t know I was an introvert
Deep in the recesses of every retail store is a locked, windowless cave of a closet with someone inside counting money. At least, that was true twenty years ago when people still hand-wrote checks and carried around wads of cash.
I was that someone.
During grad school, I worked at a department store called Stein Mart. I had to google if they were still around, and it turns out they are, although one of their FAQ’s is “Did Stein Mart go out of business?” Apparently, like a lot of retail stores, they’re solely online now.
But twenty years ago, the place was bustling. Think “upscale Marshall’s meets picked-over Macy’s.”
Working retail is tough. It’s murder on your joints and back, standing and walking all day on the hard tile or concrete floors. It’s trying for your brain, tackling monotonous, repetitive tasks. And it can be brutal on your mental health, dealing with rude customers.
Not to mention the pay. Back in 2001, I was making a smidge over minimum wage, $8 per hour.
I started in receiving and was terrible at it. The other receivers would have five boxes opened, unpacked, tagged, and racked in the amount of time it took me to do one.
