Friday, March 25, 2011

Noises of the Clothing Jungle

Some days it's easier than others to block out the hub of the chaotic environment of the clothing store where I spend my days. Today was not one of them...

10:37 a.m.

A mother pushes a toddler in a stroller as she shops. The young girl spasmodically yells out at an alarming volume, sounding like a cross between a car honking and a foghorn. Boss Lady's eyebrow raises. Interestingly, the mother seems unruffled.

11 a.m.

UPS man arrives with a large shipment of stockroom supplies. His head is bleeding. He is cursing under his breath and intermittently muttering "Dadgummit!" He refuses my offer of a Band-Aid.

12:35 p.m.

I look around anxiously, sure that the clients around me can hear my stomach grumbling as I count down the minutes to my lunch break. No one seems to notice, but I mentally give the growler a warning.

2 p.m.

Music that blasts unevenly from our overhead speakers grates on my nerves as clients complain about price adjustments and coupons. I am inspired by Cee Lo's wise words and desperately want to yell "Forget you!" at all the moaners and groaners. I refrain.

4 p.m.

The store is full of clients. A strange spitting sound is repeatedly coming from the front of the store and is hard for me to identify. Without thinking, I say aloud, "WHAT is that noise?!" Clients look around with me. All eyes fall on a mother/daughter duo. The child seems to be imitating an animal of some sort, asking that her mother guess what sort of creature would make this awful noise. She sounds as though she were trying to hock a big loogie from the back of her throat. If there's truly an animal out there with that as its signature sound, I can only hope that it uses a different mating call. Did I mention the girl looked to be about 13?

4:42 p.m.

Manic laughing shatters a fleeting moment of peace as a woman finds something near the accessories table to be hysterically funny. The "something" remains undetermined.

5:01 p.m.

Is it 5:30 yet? Hangers clatter to the floor as clothes fall from the end of an overstuffed rolling rack.

...It's 7:29 p.m. My phone rings. It's my best friend calling to catch up, but I miss the call- I've already put my earplugs in.

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