Retail: The Day to Day Experience

I hate this place, I thought to myself. My hand ran down my face, layered with sweat. My eyes fixated on the one object that seemed to run my life. I have often stared at this punch clock with such mutual disrespect, but I know that everyone faces it. I can not single myself out, for it is the burden of everyone that works here. The retail business, as many might be unaware of, is unrelenting. Product comes in, gets put on display, eventually will be sold and more comes in its stead. The work never changes, the products are almost always the same and the customers get worse and worse every day. As any member of this well lubricated machine knows, either you can throw 50 pieces an hour or you can not, end of story.

Before I completely loose track, my name is Mike and I work at a supermarket. Why this might seem trite, I despise my job more than anyone. I wouldn't say more than any other worker at Bill's Market, because we all share an infinite dispassion for the mechanism that pays our bills. In fact, such displeasure may even contribute to the sense of family that was told of us during our training.

As you might have already gathered, I am a stock boy. I am a tall, some what skinny, college bound, 20 year old stock boy. My job serves as thus: take the product from the truck, park in the back, work from the pallets and get the food out to the sales floor. It seems simple, almost mundane. Anyone with control of their body, and a working brain can contribute to the system and make an honest wage based on it. So why do I hate my job? What variable X enters my day that makes it almost unbearable? I have long thought that it is not our work that really gets to us, but our co-workers. While some of us work around people who accommodate our needs, some of us work with others that do nothing but destroy out day. My story is just as such.