Friday, February 29, 2008
Here we are, the final post. I know it's a bit anticlimactic, considering how infrequently I've posted in the past couple years. That was symptomatic of just how tired of retail I'd become. I still loved my coworkers and some of the regulars, but for the most part, 15 years behind a cash register will grind down even the sturdiest person.
So on Thursday, February 28, 2008, I finally had my last day in retail. You'd think that by age 33 I'd be ready for an actual career with accompanying salary that pays a living wage, but it wasn't even my decision. A month or two back my boss told me how our owner needed to cut $30,000 worth of payroll and I was the first cull. Since I only made around 15 grand a year, I assume someone else's head will topple into the guillotine basket this year. Everyone remarked about how well I took the news, but what was I losing? 30 hours per week earning just enough to get by? Gaining my sanity back and perhaps even a future seems like a more than fair trade-off.
I wish I had more to say about the whole thing, some grand essay that would shed light on the retail institution and its deeper meaning in the human psyche. It's just too fresh. I need months or years to process the experience and figure out what it meant to me, why I did it for so long, and where the hell I'm going to go now.
I took the liberty of recording my final retail sale, and I hope the nice woman in the clip won't be too furious that I didn't get her permission.
And now I give you the words of Calvin: "It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy...let's go exploring!"
--Tim
|
So on Thursday, February 28, 2008, I finally had my last day in retail. You'd think that by age 33 I'd be ready for an actual career with accompanying salary that pays a living wage, but it wasn't even my decision. A month or two back my boss told me how our owner needed to cut $30,000 worth of payroll and I was the first cull. Since I only made around 15 grand a year, I assume someone else's head will topple into the guillotine basket this year. Everyone remarked about how well I took the news, but what was I losing? 30 hours per week earning just enough to get by? Gaining my sanity back and perhaps even a future seems like a more than fair trade-off.
I wish I had more to say about the whole thing, some grand essay that would shed light on the retail institution and its deeper meaning in the human psyche. It's just too fresh. I need months or years to process the experience and figure out what it meant to me, why I did it for so long, and where the hell I'm going to go now.
I took the liberty of recording my final retail sale, and I hope the nice woman in the clip won't be too furious that I didn't get her permission.
And now I give you the words of Calvin: "It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy...let's go exploring!"
--Tim
Labels: finality retail endings
|
