What It’s Really Like to Work Retail
It’s fantastically messy and really f*cking hard
You think you know what the day’s demands will be, but you have no idea. You must be ready for anything and anyone to walk into your store.
From soccer moms to drug addicts — you help them all.
Some people are friendly and make an effort to talk to you. Some ignore you the entire time you ring them up; they stare at their phones or talk to their friends. Occasionally they conduct business — they purchase something while they duke it out with their credit card company on the other end of the phone.
Whatever, man.
It’s almost a relief when a customer ignores you. It lets you catch a three-minute break, and you can let your mind wander instead of selling this person on your rewards program.
Everything will break
The AC will leak, the bathroom will break, and water will seep through the windows during torrential downpours (this is an outside mall), and you will have to get it all fixed.
Hornets will decide your windows look like an excellent place to build a nest, and you’ll have to call an expert immediately.
There will be break-ins — a brick through the front glass door, and someone will steal from you every day whether you know it or not.
You will work overnight shifts and early mornings. You will haul boxes, dress mannequins, and climb ladders. Part of the day is spent on a dirty floor while finding the proper case for the sunglasses you’re selling.
You’ll wash your hands a lot and do everything in your power to not touch your face.
You’ll work all the holidays — Halloween is the best. You get paid to hand out candy, and I’ve been a part of many kids’ first trick-or-treat experiences, and it was always a joy. The two weeks after Christmas are the absolute worst.
All the purchases that everyone stressed out to buy all come back. You will have huge piles of clothes at all five of your registers, and you will have to schedule someone just to process returns.
The money you eat in returns will come off of your payroll forecast for the week, so you’ll have four people on the floor when you should have eight. Customers won’t understand, and your corporate office won’t care.
Customers will also call you to fix all their company-related problems even though you cannot fix most of them. There’s no way for a store to track your package or email you a new coupon. That’s not what we do here.
The team makes it all worth it.
You will be allowed to be yourself — quirks and all — and be accepted.
You can laugh with people. You can share your opinion and not get stomped on. Your team will embrace your quirks instead of trying to force you to be something you’re not.
The freedom in retail
Along with all of the above, which really happened, I had a lot of freedom.
I made my own schedule. I told my bosses NO and got away with it. I hired positive people. I didn’t tolerate drama or gossip. Everyone had to pull their weight, including me.
I was 100% myself, and I thrived.
I can hear the ball as it makes contact with the bat — crack! Home run.
What a f*cking gift that was.
Retail gave me a killer skill-set — I can talk to anyone. Job titles don’t impress me; we all work for money.
I learned that being in service to a team is the greatest gift. I protected them at all costs. I can change direction on a dime, and I learned early on to control my emotions when others are upset and not to take it personally.
Retail sharpened my ability to sense fraud and see sketchy behavior from across the room. Every day was a study of human behavior, and I can now more easily tell when someone is lying.
When you work in retail, you must be able to handle about fifty different job titles. IT help, receptionist, referee, older sibling, motivator — I could go on forever; you get it.
Do you know how many registers I’ve fixed or internet routers I’ve dusted off, unplugged, and plugged back in? Me either. Countless receipt printers needed fixing, and UPC scanners unplugged with a bent paperclip (don’t ask).
And now?
Some of my skills are now worthless. It doesn’t matter that I know how to put stickers in a markdown gun — which is tricky, by the way. It doesn’t matter that I can put a new needle in a ticket gun (also tricky).
What does matter is that I made sure I knew how to do all that sh*t.
I wanted to know how everything worked and I learned it all. I got to the place where I would pick up the phone and call anyone, help anyone, fix anything. I was great at it. I then turned around and empowered everyone else. Boom!
When I worked in retail, I knocked it out of the park.
Retail let me be myself, empower others, and thrive. It is physically difficult work, and I didn’t quite realize the toll until I’d been gone for a few months. I stood up from the couch late last night to head to bed and thought — “Oh, my whole body no longer hurts.”
Retail people are fierce and savvy, getting way too little credit.
I learned how to run a business with a considerable staff. I worked with all kinds of people of all ages and backgrounds. We all got along and helped out. The team made all the hard work worth it, and now that I work alone, it’s what I miss most.
What’s it really like to work retail?
It’s like driving a bus on a curvy highway. You will go through every season, and the bus will break down, and you’ll all pull together to fix it. People will get on, and people will get off; some will keep in touch.
The team will rally and keep each other going, including you. Until one day, you decide that you’ve seen enough, and you grab your laptop and head to the nearest cafe.
Retail is complex and messy and one of the best things I’ve ever done.
Based in Southern California, Kit Campoy is a former retail leader turned freelance writer. She covers Retail, Leadership, and Business.
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