Last week in This Fine Newspaper, I gave my two cents on how to deal with parking and driving while holiday shopping in the Truckee Meadows. For those of you who missed that column, I'll sum it up in one sentence: STAY HOME AND HIDE UNDER YOUR BED UNTIL SPRING.
This week, I'll give tips to those of you who are ignoring that sound advice. Assuming you actually make it safely to one of the Truckee Meadows' fine shopping centers and malls, here are some nuggets of knowledge on how to deal with the holiday phenomenon of seasonal retail help.
This time of year, as retail outlets swell like Bill Clinton when he thinks of pudgy interns, many stores hire new employees on a temporary basis to get through the holiday rush. If you should ever encounter a seasonal retail employee, my advice: RUSH HOME AND HIDE UNDER YOUR BED UNTIL SPRING. It's not that all seasonal employees are worthless; some of them are actually decent, hard-working people looking to make a few extra bucks. But others ... well, let me put it this way: They make six bucks an hour and have no job security after December. You do the math; you get what you pay for.
Anyway, if you insist on shopping despite the presence of seasonal workers, here are some things to remember.
1. Avoid training sessions of seasonal employees. I was in line at a store the other day, and this really happened: A cashier was doing on-the-job training with a new seasonal employee. The woman in front of me was purchasing a few items with a credit card, and after the cashier swiped the card, the cashier -- in a volume usually reserved for nuclear warning sirens -- explained to the trainee: "OK, WHEN THIS HAPPENS, TELL THE CUSTOMER HIS OR HER CREDIT CARD HAS BEEN DENIED, PROBABLY BECAUSE THERE'S NO MONEY LEFT ON IT. ASK HIM OR HER FOR ANOTHER CARD."
The customer was mortified. I was, too. I had planned on charging my purchase, but I ended up paying cash instead. I then headed home, and I am writing this from underneath my bed. I expect to emerge around spring. That's what I get for not following my own advice in the first place ...
2. Take any information imparted by seasonal employees with a grain of salt. I worked five holiday seasons at a large toy store chain with a grammatically challenged name, and I saw dozens of seasonal workers in action. Whenever a customer would ask them a question they didn't know the answer to (which was, well, virtually every question), they would respond in one of two ways:
A. Tell the customer they didn't know the answer to the question.
B. Make something up.
Whenever the employees chose option B, it was stunning. Some poor parent would wander up to the employee, and ask where something, like the Barbie dolls, were, and the seasonal employee would respond: "aisle 17." I would then watch as the parent wandered to the edge of the store -- where the aisles ended at 14 -- and stare at the wall, bewildered.
It was also funny on occasion when a seasonal employee did the right thing, and chose option A. I'll never forget the day when a 16-year-old newbie wandered up to several employees and me, stunned, and asked if we had something called a breast pump. Apparently, he'd never heard of such a thing.
That was funny. The look on his face after we truthfully told him that our store actually carried breast pumps was downright hilarious.
3. Don't be a jerk to seasonal employees. It never ceases to amaze me how rude some people are to retail employees. Normally, a seasoned clerk or salesman will let the poor treatment slide -- after all, they're used to it, and they have job security to worry about.
But seasonal help ... well, they are NOT used to it, and know they'll probably be without work in a few weeks anyway. Therefore, they have far less to lose by throttling a buttmunch customer who treats them like crap for no good reason.
Keep that in mind, and treat your fellow man -- seasonal employees most definitely included -- with respect this holiday shopping season. Either that, or you may find a breast pump shoved so far up your nose, you won't get it out until spring.
Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan who has visions of sugarplums dancing in his head. His column appears here Tuesdays, and a column archive may be viewed at www.jimmyboegle.com.