Today’s post will be short and sweet. I am never spontaneous, but this weekend I got another dog. After seeing her two weeks in a row at a rescue stand inside Petsmart, I did it. I adopted Sammie; a Chihuahua mix. She’s a year old and she’s been at the shelter since she was a puppy.

She’s so happy to have a home now. And I’m happy that I could be spontaneous for once. So far, its working out.

My dear, sweet, precious mother longs to be a storyteller. I guess technically she already is. She has taught school for over 30 years and in those years, has told thousands of stories.

As a band teacher, she told stories to go along with the music pieces the band was playing. She helped her students understand the music by painting a picture of what the music represents. As a teacher, she is always telling a story. Actually, she is always telling a story no matter what the setting.

When she stumbled upon a website several years ago about professional storytellers, she decided to look into that as a possible career. She began looking at storytelling workshops and festivals. At these events “professional” storytellers perform, teach, and give advice to those seeking information about this art. When my mother found a storytelling festival here in St. Louis, needless to say she was siked; this meant I could join her for this fun filled event. I reluctantly accompanied her, not wanting her to have to go alone, and thus began one of the oddest days of my life.

One after another, I watched people tell random stories about random things using instruments, sounds, and random body parts to help them “tell the story.” These people were odd to say the least and most of their stories were bizarre and weird, but I stuck by my mom who seemed to be enjoying herself. I couldn’t believe these people called themselves “professionals.” Some of them probably failed their high school drama class.

It wasn’t until a woman by the name of Loretta Washington stepped in front of us, that things really got interesting. In our brochure, it listed Ms. Washington’s story as being about “growing up in the bootheel of Missouri,” which is where we are from. We anxiously waiting for her program to begin, but were terribly disappointed by what came out of her mouth.

She never once mentioned specifically being in the bootheel of Missouri, but did ramble on about growing up in the country. She told us about being at her grandmother’s house one afternoon when she was a child. She and her sister were playing and noticed some beets and red onions on the kitchen table. When her grandmother stepped out of the house briefly, she and her sister started eating the beets and red onions. They ate so many that they threw up. That was the story. But it got weird, when she got very specific in her story about the red vomit from the beets and red onions she and her sister had eaten. She went on for what felt like hours about the fact that she and her sister had vomited after eating these disgusting vegetables.

My mother and I could hardly look at each other during this tirade for fear of bursting into laughter. I didn’t know if I should laugh or throw up myself. The story was making me queasy. It was not only a boring story, it was nauseating.

When the story finally ended we got up and dusted ourselves off, trying to forget this horrible “story.” Later in the day we decided to give Ms. Washington another chance. We located another one of her performances and decided to go. This would turn out to be a bad decision. As we found our seats and Ms. Washington introduced herself, we were horrified to hear her say, “This story is called ‘Beets and Red Onions’.” My mother and I looked at each other horror-struck. Because my mother likes to sit up front and close to the action, we then had to sit and listen to a second helping of “beets and red onions,” this time not being able to control our laughter. I could not figure out how in the hell we ended up having to listen to this disgusting story twice.

That was my last storytelling event. I hope my mother’s storytelling career takes off. I know she will have entertaining stories to tell. Nothing could be as bad as a vomit story.

In my current line of work, I notice shopping habits. I notice how people shop and what they shop for. I can tell what kind of attitude they have towards shopping. After spending several months “studying” these shopping habits, I have categorized them into my own system of descriptive shopping behaviors.


“The Needy Nancy” -- This shopper comes in the door seeking attention. From the moment they enter the store, they want to be the center of attention. They want to know the sales, specials, and promotions. They want advice on what to try on and how it looks. They want someone to follow them around the store offering them items to try. They want suggestions. They want special treatment. They want the full and undivided attention of the sales associate.

“The Self-Sufficient Shopper” – This is one of the best shoppers a sales associate can encounter. This shopper is usually shopping alone. They smile and are friendly, but usually prefer to shop without being disturbed. They will listen to the sales associate recite the sales and specials, but will then want to be left alone to browse. This shopper is not needy and does require attention. They just want to look and discover things on their own.

“The Clueless Shopper” – In a world of shoppers with a mission, this shopper lacks motivation. This shopper has no idea what they are looking for or what they want. They don’t know what colors look best on them. They don’t know what styles look best on them. They don’t know how to shop or how to dress. They enter a store and wonder aimlessly until they either decide on an unneeded item or leave the store with nothing.

“The ‘I’m In My Own World’ Shopper” – This shopper annoys not only the sales associates, but also their fellow shoppers. Most of the time they are talking loudly on the phone; discussing the most inappropriate of topics with someone miles away. Sometimes they are shopping in pairs or groups. They usually ignore everyone not in their group. They laugh and talk with each other sometimes disturbing those around them. They camp out in dressing rooms as though it’s their own personal closet. They take their time, they don’t get off the phone, and they don’t consider anyone but themselves. They are oblivious to everyone around them.

“The RAB” (Rude A** B***h) – This shopper’s title speaks for itself. To this shopper, nothing is in the right place, nothing is the right price, and nothing is what they expect. This shopper will argue and let everyone know that they think they are superior.


So which shopper are you? I like to think of myself as the “Self-Sufficient Shopper,” and after having worked retail I plan on staying that way.

It is safe to say that I’m not the best at customer service. Unfortunately, that is part of my current job description. But before you get the wrong idea, I do like to help people. I like to assist them in accomplishing what they set out to do or, in this case, buy.

What I don’t like are those people who think it’s my life’s goal to accommodate them while they degrade me. In this scenario, my “the customer is always right” attitude goes out the window. It is very hard for me to be nice to someone who makes me feel like I’m beneath them. When this happens my happy-to-help-you demeanor goes away and in comes my happy-to-put-you-in-your-place attitude.

I know this is not the right attitude to have; especially in my line of work. But when I hear people say things to me like, “Is there someone older I can talk to?” or “Can I talk to the black lady?” or my personal favorite “If you knew anything about fashion then maybe you would know that I’m right.”

When things like this are said, it’s safe to say that all you’re going to get out of me are sarcasms and the “stink eye.” I want to say that I’m not as “young” as I look. I want to ask if it’s not racism to ask to speak with the “black” lady. And I want to get the message across that I do know about fashion having spent four and a half years studying it.

I have spent most of my life being kind and appreciative to all those working in the service industry only to have rude people act like I don’t matter; and there’s nothing I can do about it.

In the meantime, I just hold out for the courteous customers who are polite and respectful; the ones who honestly want and need my help and who are appreciative of it. These people do exists. I seem them everyday. They make it easy to assist them with a genuine smile on my face.