Summers through college were spent getting ahead and taking extra courses and then always learning something new at an esteemed job.
The jobs were as random as people: a telemarketer, a dry cleaner clerk, a laundromat clerk, a waitress, and then the infamous Goodwill Industries store clerk position.
Goodwill is a wonderful program teaching individuals basic job skills and giving them social experiences to help increase self-esteem, raise their independence, and many times, allow them to live in supervised or group home situations.
Our Goodwill store located in Oklahoma was one of the largest retail outlets with only two classified employees: the manager and me! The remaining workforce were clients of the program who had a variety of behavior or mental challenges, but all were in need of love and support. I adored each and every one.
My manager was an inspiration to watch. I was lucky to have worked alongside her. At the time, age 20, I didn’t realize this. My mother, who worked as a bank teller at one of the largest banks in Tulsa, OK, knew many of the “business owners” and well-to-do in the city as her customers. She was the key to my success in finding summer jobs each year. I didn’t appreciate her efforts because after all, they were minimum wage and mundane! (I was young and thought I knew it all! ha!)
At Goodwill, my manager discovered that I had a flair for design, particularly interior design. Wha-lah……..suddenly, I was responsible for all end caps and window displays. (This job was looking better and better!) I loved creating a new theme each week, using items from the store, and “selling” our merchandise in the most clever and unique ways I could imagine. I also equally enjoyed getting — primarily the men — (yes, I was sexist! ) in helping me to transform useless, donated furniture into “staging props” for the windows. As I explained, we were creating sort of a backdrop for a play. (I believe some thought we were actually going to do a play someday from those windows. Oh well, you know, for them………..I would have written and created a play to perform one night after work, using each of them as a cast member!)
Things were going so well at my summer job. I stopped resenting my mom for what I seemingly thought was a job well “below my capabilities.” (Yes, spoiled, snob college kid — yet to experience the cruel world!)
Weekly inventory sheets were a requirement of Goodwill headquarters at the time. The manager had assigned me to do those as well. (Now, that I’m older and perhaps a little wiser, with all I was doing, I wonder……..what did she do? ha!) Oh, well, I was too naive and loved every bit of my summer job.
Monday mornings were set aside for inventory. I assembled the “crew” as usual. “Count Day” — as I called it – was a game! Everyone was divided into a section. All the hangers in their section were to be turned in the same way; all the merchandise lined up like tin soldiers; and as games go, the “best” section received a prize! (This wasn’t the Olympics, so actually everyone won a prize…….usually ice cream cones…….but the winner earned a sundae!) In Oklahoma during the summer, it’s in the 90′s and over 100 degrees, ice cream is an esteemed treat. Plus, I was on a college kid’s budget making minimum wage!
Everything was going great this particular Monday morning until one overly observant customer made a comment. With clipboard in hand, I was checking through the racks like speed lightning — it was a HUGE store. Inventory sheets were due on Monday before closing. Accuracy and efficiency were key. I had said the usual “hi, is there anything that I can help you find?” when she walked by, but when she replied that she didn’t need any help, I returned to my task at hand.
Oddly enough, instead of shopping, she was some quasi-FBI agent watching me! She must have been doing surveillance for quite some time because finally, she walked up to me to make a comment. The comment destroyed my whole world!
“You count so well. They (the Goodwill program) have done a wonderful job with you. You should be so proud of yourself. I’ve been watching you and you can count so high and so fast. You go through these racks so quickly. You have learned to concentrate. That skill will really help you.” She smiled, I smiled (though wanting to cry) and said “thank you.”
She left the store. I went on break. I needed to cool off. How dare her? I was a junior in college with excellent grades, working my butt off for accomplishments and awards, and she thought I was a client???? I felt humiliated, wanted to quit, and was eager to chat with my mom.
That evening, I told my mom about what traumatic thing had happened at my summer job! (Of course, in my mind, it was her fault! ha!) She laughed and told me to blow it off.
I returned to school for my senior year and told the “Goodwill story” time and time again. Since I was such a “good counter,” it became the house joke. Anytime we had a charity fund-raiser, I was assigned as the accountant “counting” the money. Need inventory list of last year’s party supplies to see what needed to be purchased for this year? Yep, I was chosen as the “counter!” It seems NO ONE in this house of 110 girls could count as well as I could! hee hee hee
You see, I learned — albeit the hard way — it’s not the comments that are made…………it’s the experiences you learn from that really count!
Keep laughing…………..I am.
