What My First Job Taught Me — Leaving Retail To Start Anew
Everyone has to start somewhere, and I finally got my chance. The next chapter starts here.
Onto The Next
My time at my first job will end in a month, not necessarily by choice but due to relocation. On the bright side, returning to my hometown after 11 years is nice. But I'll miss people here too.
Two years passed after graduation before I found my place here. It was a time of mental agony, loneliness – it frankly could've killed me. I certainly thought of it every day.
I feared working anywhere other than software. That meant to give up on my life's work. To forever trap myself out of the industry – to be judged as a quitter.
Turns out the internet and peer pressure are host to a lot of BS.
Negative notions bombarded me. "Retail is a horrible place akin to slavery. They pay you low and overwork you. Your manager will yell, scream, and abuse you. Customers will do the same."
I've learned a lot from my job. Many of those negatives are true – but not in the way one might expect. It's often more than words can explain.
My first job started me as a customer service associate. New environment, with a blaring speaker sounding through the store.
"Customer service needed. Customer service needed."
It felt almost dystopian. The white walls of the break room surrounded me. No windows, no light, almost like solitary confinement. The very first person I served was a paranoid, smart loon.
"I'm asking for your number for the discount you a**-"
One thing I've learned – people are freakin' dumb. Before, I didn't like seeing people say that online because, "Well, man... what if I'm the dumb one, with my limited world view... I can't judge people, that's kinda toxic-"
No, as flawed as I am, I've experienced that some people are really lacking upstairs. I mean, really. I'm talking, not understanding the number "10," and not because of a language barrier.
All I can say is, I've way overestimated the standard of human functionality the public is beholden to. It makes me feel slightly better about my shortcomings.
Some people are also... jerks. I love it when people think they know our job. "Why can't you just-"
Ah, of course, I just wanted to listen to you berate us instead of solving the problem immediately. Let me just roll out the red carpet for you, my apologies.
And yes, we do have 20 of those summer clearance items you want in the back. It's not like anyone else wanted those 99-cent inflatables to pawn off on eBay.
Stop shoving your phone wordlessly into my face, and speak like an adult. No, I'm not Google, just saying "HAND SOAP" isn't the proper way to ask for help. And no, I'm not doing your DoorDash order for you – don't get mad at me if you can't do your job.
I got promoted to shift lead in 4 months. Well, the position was open and I applied. I don't know how desperate the situation was at the time.
But another skill I've developed is dealing with adversity. Often, I have to let go of my ego and being correct to make the problem leave. Prevention is an even better measure, though. It turns out I have more control than I thought.
Problem-solving has been a key part. Kids being disrespectful and ignoring rules? Put up some signs, start charging them a "jerk" tax. That months-long issue went away quickly.
Technically not corporate-approved... but whatever.
Too much facing to do? Order some parts to do it for me. Finding solutions to make things easier has been interesting.
Phrasing my words is very important with this. Asking for a "store account" vs a "phone number" clears my intention, for example, so idiotic conspiracy theorists can't misinterpret me. Of course, now people get confused and ask me, "Oh, like a phone number?" Sure, whatever. It never ends.
Unfortunately, the futility of trying to help is another realization I've made. I stopped offering alternatives, like suggesting nearby restroom facilities, because a few just love to complain.
Alright, I'll go straight to the point then – no public restrooms. Three words is all I'm bothered to give anymore. Not even worth a please, because unfortunately, some people force me to drop the niceties to respect the rules.
Throughout my life, I always feared getting in trouble. Is that person looking at me? What do they think I'm doing? Oh no, I made a mistake and they're annoyed...
I'd ruminate for weeks and months, feeling terrible. Now, I'm on the other end. I'm the one telling a person they can't do that. I'm the one staring down the aisle looking for kids shoplifting.
Now I'm the one potentially creating uneasy feelings for others. But now, it's selfishly justified. My actions hardly register in my mind. I hardly focus on individuals when there are dozens a day.
I forget who they are by next week, even if they make a big mistake. But they don't know that. Maybe they stress and ruminate like I did.
I've learned to let go. Sometimes, the jerk gets away, thinking they're right. The shoplifter gets off scot free. There were days I was so angry and frustrated.
But there's too much to worry about. Too much to do throughout the day. Letting go is my only reasonable option – so my mind's adapted to do so.
The lines between good and bad have blurred. The trust issues are real. One customer who acts okay turns nasty when you don't give them what they want. The nice lady I talked to turns out to be a shoplifter.
The drunk man who rambles seemed cool, if a bit annoying. Well, he eventually got banned for theft, later threatened violent sexual assault, and was arrested for wielding a knife at the park nearby.
I had once shaken his hand and talked with him before.
It really highlights how I can never truly know someone. And even if I could, that doesn't mean they can't change, for better or worse. It's highlighted how multifaceted people are – the lines between good and evil have blurred.
These bad experiences are relatively rare, though – it's just the volume of people per day. A 2% chance translates to 1 a day, 7 a week, 30 a month, etc.
How could I forget the gratefulness people give when I help them, particularly on short notice? The lady who comes in and buys chocolate to share with the workers? The accomplishment I feel when I challenge myself and succeed? The mutual support of co-workers?
There's a dichotomy where the store attracts both the brightest and dumbest. Do you need a digital copy? Grown man – "I don't know. You tell me. You tell me." How the f-... hell would I know what you need?
Meanwhile, this 8-year-old is alone in the store, buying her sister diapers, asing questions, and speaking better than I did at age 24. Like Jesus, how are you this intelligent?
There's something satisfying about seeing a truckload of warehouse items. Several stacks of totes – 30-50 pounds and up to a hundred items each. And being able to fill all the empty spaces on the shelves.
When I'm told I'm the fastest my manager's seen in 20 years, it sure feels good.
I was forced into situations where I needed to speak. To face adversity head-on and learn new things. I'm a better conversationalist now. I'm more resilient. And my arm muscles have grown like heck.
I don't need grand aspirations. I don't need to chain myself to the tech industry. All I needed was to feel like I mattered. The opportunity to show what I could do given the chance.
I can still work on my projects and software. But I don't need my passion killed to achieve my goals.
They said retail would abuse me – but it's the tech industry that made me want to die every day, before even ever joining it. I may get paid less, but $18.50/hr is more than 0.
I didn't have to grovel. I wasn't laughed at. They didn't play games. They didn't ghost me. They didn't dehumanize me.
Obviously, the barrier to entry is lower. Shoestring staffing from corporate causes problems. But I managed the needs and learned a ton tending to these countless duties.
So, I'll go where I'm wanted. Where I feel appreciated for who I am. Even if it wears my body. If it happens, it happens – but I no longer prioritize a career in software.
Obviously, it's more about who you work with. But over two years of interactions attest that the gamble is not worth it for me.
The only message I've got is that 8 times out of 10, I will not be treated with dignity or respect. I will not feel fulfilled in my work. It is not a number game; it's not worth the slim chance of gold.
Not with how things are now.
I'll miss the people. I'll miss the satisfaction of killing the warehouse. Uncertainty looms – my next job might not match how well this one went. But I have to take a risk, just as I did the first time.
With my giving up on tech, I've found blue-collar physical jobs interesting. I looked into working on a ship as a deckhand. Car mechanics seem to make a decent amount, with a progression from tires to working on the cars themselves.
I think I'm done with retail for now – I feel I've hit a peak and want new experiences to learn from. But I will never forget how this first job transformed me.
One could say it changed my life.
Thank you for reading.
You've reached the end for now. But the story continues.