Old Dog = New Trick

Ah, Christmas at the card shop! Yeah, I know it's not even Halloween yet. But yesterday, during my shift, we got 27 boxes of merchandise delivered, and at least 20 were all Christmas. It's overwhelming.

Before I tackled all that corrugated cardboard, I clocked in, filled my water bottle, and looked at the employee notices. I was shocked to see a December calendar, with the store's extended hours, and instructions for how to request holiday time off. My boss advised that she needed to know by November 15 in order to accommodate us.

Really? I made my holiday time off request back in June, and it came back denied.  I was told, "This is our busiest week and it's all hands on deck. No vacation requests are going to be approved. This is retail."

I was furious. I hate that tone: "This is retail."  I know what my job is here. I also know that I get no benefits and no paid time off. I know that in 2025 and 2024, my time off requests were honored. I know that my take home pay for this job is so minor that my financial planner doesn't even include it when developing my fiscal forecast. While we're cataloging things I know, I know I don't need this shit.

However, I didn't say any of that. I could tell back in June that my manager was parroting the edict of her boss, Eric. She usually doesn't talk that way. Since then, Eric has been transferred.  

My partner on the floor yesterday happened to be the store manager. It was just her and me for the whole four hours. We'd had a short power outage a few nights ago – I experienced it at my home – and though electricity was restored quickly, the power surge had blown out some of the store's circuitry. Until repairs were made, we'd been unable to accept anything but cash. Halloween is busy and lucrative, so this was a hit to the store's bottom line. One of our most popular vendors has pulled out of its contract with us. After decades. So when customers come in and ask for that specific brand, we get to tell them we simply don't have it anymore. 

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My manager seemed so defeated, I just didn't have the heart to mention the holiday announcement to her. She started the small talk by asking me about The World Series. You know I can talk baseball for hours. Then I opened one of the shipping cartons and met Ulrich the Wolf. He is the softest, sweetest stuffed animal I've seen in forever. I oohed and aahed and was reluctant to put him down. 

"Look at his puppy paws!" I enthused. 

The encouraged her to show me pictures of her dog whose feet do, indeed, look like Ulrich's. You know what I can discuss even longer than baseball? Critters.

Finally, at the end of my shift, she brought up the holiday thing. She asked me if I'd be able to let her know by the 15th if I needed time off. I wanted to scream, "I TOLD YOU BACK IN JUNE!" I wanted to ask her what happened to, "This is retail?" 

But I know what happened. Eric was replaced, that's what happened.

Why put her in a position where she has to admit how little power she really has?

Do I think I'm owed an apology? Yes, I do. In her position, I'd offer one. But I could tell that in this way, my 30-something lesbian Hispanic boss is exactly like my ultra-WASP, WWII generation mom was. There are things it's easier to pretend never happened, and my June holiday request is one of them.

So I bit my tongue. Instead I promised her I'd have all my vacation time nailed down by my shift next week. I left feeling good about the whole situation.

I am learning – slowly – that my every thought doesn't need to be shared and my every impulse doesn't need to be acted upon. 

 
Photo by Siora on Unsplash