The illusion of order

This stock photo* is a fair representation of the card shop where I work. Your eye doesn't go to anything specific, it's just an overwhelming collection of cards and color.

The store, which is small, is filled with boxed cards and decorations. Stocking stuffers. So many rolls of paper are jammed into the bins that the cello wraps are tearing. There's even more paper in the backroom.

Into this world walked Jen. She is "second in command" to our boss, Cece. She's been at the store the longest, even longer than Cece. In her late 40s, a mom of kids under 10, she like me is an ad agency drop out, working 20 hours/week at the card shop. 

But boy, when she's there, does she ever work! I saw that ad agency ethos in everything she did. The floor needed "care," the floor needed "clean up." It needs to be done NOW because Black Friday is coming! We ad folk respond very well to deadlines. In fact, we need them.

She went into the backroom and brought out sequined reindeer antler headbands and asked me to unpackage them. "They won't sell if they aren't on the floor," she said, correctly. She was my supervisor yesterday and I respect that, so I torn cellophane off headband after headband and handed them over to her. Jen placed them in a wire basket on a table that already had mugs and pens and journals and Santa socks and oh, hell, I can't even recall what all else. 

"There!" she said proudly. She seemed to believe now they will sell. I'm not so sure. I don't think anyone will see them on that overcrowded table. 

There was a basket of ribbon behind the counter. It had been delivered over the weekend and no one knew what to do with it. I offered to start sorting the ribbon by color and putting them away, wherever Jen decided "away" was. It seemed like a useful thing to do and it would keep me near the register where I could ring customers up.

Jen quit spinning like a dervish long enough to tell me to concentrate on green. Why green and not red? I didn't ask. She was on a roll. I was to put the Evergreen ribbon in open slots on the display (there were only two open slots on the display) and the rest in the GREEN RIBBON overstock box. 

I did as told but let her know the GREEN RIBBON box's lid now wouldn't close. To Jen, this was catastrophe! She made it plain that, while she wasn't upset with me, she was still upset. How will I or anyone else find the right ribbon to refill the display from a box so overstuffed? Unless every single person in my neighborhood came in for green ribbon on Black Friday, I didn't see that as a problem. There was literally no room for another roll of green on that display.

She had me start a second GREEN RIBBON overstock box. I told her I'd begin with all the pale greens, since they aren't very Christmas-y and could go in the back without being missed. She liked that idea and I worked on that -- and ringing people up -- until my shift was over. I felt a little bad that there was still a wire basket behind the counter filled with red, blue and yellow ribbon, just not green, but I'd made Jen happy and so what the hell.

I overheard Jen telling a regular customer about her on-going kitchen renovation and how this year, she would not be able to celebrate Thanksgiving the way she'd like to. Either the kitchen counters or the floor aren't ready yet. (When you're eavesdropping, you don't always get the whole story.)

Suddenly Jen made sense! Not only is she a recovering agency rat, she is living in a remodeling zone. Her whole life is chaos right now. While she seemed like a spinning ball of frenetic tension and energy, I suspect she was soothing herself by injecting dose after dose of order to the card shop during her shift.

Objectively, I don't believe her efforts did much good. The fact of the matter is: Corporate has sent my little neighborhood store too much product for the floorspace.  

But really, what difference? Jen got to restore a little order to her crazy world and my shift goes faster when I'm busy (even if it's with busywork).

I think the best thing about this job will be learning about my new coworkers and their stories.

*Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash