How My Rough Week At Retail Transpired

There's good times, bad times, and a lot in-between with my job. With injury, crime, and fatigue, it took only one more straw to break the camel's back.

A Series Of Misfortune

The correlation within a chain of events is only apparent in hindsight, but it's become obvious now – I've had a rough week. Enough so that the negativity culminated in my first workplace-related tears.

I wasn't having a full breakdown, but I did have to blow my nose and wipe the waterworks during break. Also a bit in the warehouse, and when I was alone at the front or the shelves.

This series started on a fateful Thursday – truck day. A brand new shipment of shiny goods to sell comes to the store, and it's my job to help unload boxes of product onto the shelves.

So that's what I did. I removed the drinks and whatnot, broke down the cardboard, and rinsed and repeated.

I finished a palette and went back to retrieve another U-boat. It was loaded with boxes and didn't look very stable. I mean, it was doing mini-wheelies when I moved it.

Nevertheless, it would be fine.

The U-boat was positioned in the proper aisle with some assistance. I began to open each box to remove their contents. Everything about the procedure was smooth and routine.

I cleared most of the left and middle, but there was one more to check. So I started to cut open the box – my head hovering above the top to see. And then...

*WHAM*

An impact hits my head and sends my glasses flying off. The remaining stack on the right had somehow tipped over and fell right on my noggin.

Annoying head pain followed throughout the day. I felt less present in my surroundings, like how I had at the worst of my unemployment-related depression.

I also had spontaneous hiccups as I tried to sleep that night. The affliction was a bit concerning, as I hadn't had them in ages, so they might've indicated something was up.

I reported the injury the following day with an hour-long phone call. No brain injury diagnosed, thankfully.

The peak intensities of the head pain felt rather severe, even if it was moderate and intermittent overall. The nurses over the line instructed to use ice packs every hour for 20 minutes.

The inciting incident had occured.
As in, there was more to come.

A typical closing shift from afternoon to night followed the next day. Nothing worth mentioning happened for most of it. 15 minutes before lights out, I was ready for a nice clean ending.

That didn't happen.

At 9:43 PM, I'm ringing up a customer in a small line when I notice a guy walk around to the first register. He jumps on the counter loudly, then onto my side. I realize he's wearing all black – and a ski mask.

All I do is stare with the customers. An immediate dread fills my mind as I register what's about to happen.

The guy doesn't come near me though. Just takes a few cigarettes, jumps back over, and walks out with no urgency.

It was funny only in hindsight, but I just resumed the transaction the second the masked guy turned away, like – "Would you like a bag as well?" Then I tried to reach leadership to no avail.

I stood around for an unbearable 5 minutes wondering what the hell to do, before my colleagues returned and I could report what happened.

I was completely alone during this ordeal. I wouldn't say I was shaken, but I was certainly bothered as I'd assumed robbery in the heat of the moment.

Afterward, I Googled a lot – "Is it possible to catch someone with a covered face?" Having this happen feels... hopeless. As if nothing can be done to deter or stop the spread of fear. No justice or anything.

I had to work the same time the next day. My wariness was higher in those last minutes, anticipating the return of the counter-jumper.

But nothing happened – for real this time.

I agreed to cover a shift on Sunday – originally a day off. Going from a late night right into an early morning would be a challenge – but more hours, more money. Sounds good to me.

I slept at 11. Woke up at 6. However, the store ended up further short-staffed than expected, and I was apologetically asked to stay for overtime.

It wasn't entirely necessary, but I volunteered to anyway. More hours more money. And I don't mind if it makes things easier on others.

I remained at the store for 13+ hours that day – from 7:00 AM to 8:00... PM. I walked to work in the dark before sunrise and got home the same way after sunset.

Again, it was my choice, so no complaints. My legs were on the verge of collapse though – going up the stairs was iffy. Yet I still didn't feel tired enough to sleep until after midnight.

And I had another shift the next day. I woke up at 4 AM from insomnia.

I was just trying to prevent a sprain. I remember years ago I went from hardly exercising to walking 6 miles nonstop, and injured both legs.

Everything was fine until a regular customer arrived. I went through the typical questions, had a 7-second interruption to answer a co-worker's question, and quickly grabbed the coins for change.

But then he snapped at me in the middle of those seconds, aggressively gesturing and raising his voice to get me to go faster – which was impossible as I was already moving at speed.

This customer's been an enigma. I thought they were grumpy as my first impression. But I began to believe they were just blunt on the outside over time. This outburst was whiplash, having convinced myself they cared deep down.

I didn't know why this one exchange bothered me so – but I felt terrible. I couldn't stop ruminating on this for hours.

I let myself release silent tears during break, tearing off paper towels multiple times. It's a healing process after all, and bottling emotions only makes it worse. I knew this.

But the dread didn't recede completely.

The feeling persisted behind the counter. In the aisles. At least the doors were locked in the warehouse. But intermittently, I had to hold my sleeve to my eyes and painfully scrunch my face.

I just didn't understand. What was so bad about this one encounter?

I think when a customer complains I know it's about the problem, and I can help them the best I can. Even if they get upset because they don't understand (or are flat-out wrong), it's like – well, not my fault.

But the situation becomes adversarial when it's personal. I don't exaggerate when I say it's just as bad as when I believed I was about to be robbed.

It's the same hopelessness and depression. Perhaps because in a sense, I was robbed – of respect and my humanity.

It's also slightly embarassing because my distress didn't go unnoticed. Multiple colleagues asked me what was wrong. I'm sure the customers noticed too. Guess I wasn't as stone-faced as I thought I was.

I felt worse recalling the societal stigma about showing emotion. Through doomsearching my problems, I've learned tears often aren't from a single negative event, but the build-up from multiple preceding ones.

It makes sense considering everything that's happened this week.

But there is balance. There is a positive side even if negativity bias obfuscates it. I hate meaningless platitudes just as much as the next guy, but I've learned other things here too.

Mainly, I now have more proof that I'm in a good work environment. It's one where I'm certain peers and higher-ups have my back – not that I had doubts before.

Apparently, the ski-mask guy's pulled stunts before. I thought there was no chance of identifying them. However, them wearing crocs clued others in to a name.

An arrest warrant will be made. The first experience is probably the most scary. But what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, and I'll be more prepared to respond to similar events in the future.

My head pain has gone as if it never happened. Maybe something worse develops in the future, but I'm not counting on it.

I'm exhausted to all hell. I haven't slept well. Is that an achievement? I don't know if the next days will bear further adversity. But just as my physical injuries heal, I know my mental ones will too.

I've already felt drained before this. Unemployment and social media caused neverending psychological distress. Maybe I'm feeling that same pain now. But at least I'm getting paid for it. And I'm not alone.

I've experienced both the rose tinted glasses and the unfavorable side of this job. But I know the truth is somewhere in-between. These challenges will be relegated to a distant past in due time.

I'll wait and ride this rough patch out.