On Monday mornings in retail merchandising land, reality is suspended for about 4 hours during which time perfectly normal women are transformed into wildebeests. Fights break out over the color printer, obscenities ricochet off the walls like angry bullets, and calculators are often thrown to the ground and stomped on like glasses at a Jewish wedding ceremony. All of this frenzy ensues in a mad rush to print the Monday reports, recapping the previous week's business (and deciding for some if they will still have jobs come next month).
On this past Monday, during a particularly tense period of morning turmoil (summer sales designed to liquidate warm weather merchandise to clear room for fall goods not quite doing the trick) one poor girl was doing the work of 3 (and the poor girl was not me for a change). The boss let out a blood curdling scream for the girl, and on instinct as if the Titanic were sinking, the girl lept up from her desk and dashed into the hallway, Starbucks still in hand. Unfortunately, a rather large hand truck from the warehouse was parked outside of our door for morning sample delivery, and the girl's foot met with the obstacle with an audible 'crash'. As she tumbled face first into the boss's office, we all jumped up in fear for the girl. Her foot was bent at an awkward angle and her face was as white as sushi rice. Our boss, witnessing this incident head on, dropped her eyes to the newly placed carpeting, and asked "did you just spill coffee on my floor?". The scene was a nice confirmation of my decision to leave this job for a new one, beginning early next month.