No Ma'am, I Don't Work Here

If there's a universal look for a retail worker, I apparently fit the bill - because everyplace I go, people seem to think I work there and can help them.

This past Saturday was a shopping blitz for me. I'm doing some home improvement (well, apartment-improvement) and needed several items from different stores. None of which, incidently, any of the stores in question had available which I gotta tell ya, really made my Saturday. Really. But I digress.

It started bright and early at Target. 8am, I got there when the doors opened because I had crowds and I had my eye on some large, heavy objects. I'm dressed in a black sweatshirt and khaki jeans, with boots. And yes, Virginia, I got asked the eternal question:

"Excuse me...do you work here?"

Now. Call me stupid. But it seems to me that every single Target employee I've ever seen, wears a red polo shirt with the word "Target" over the breast, with that bullseye logo of theirs. Bright red.

Me? No red.

Fast forward to later in the day. Now it's Home Depot, looking for wallpaper that apparently they don't carry. The fuckers. I can see the look on the little old woman's face from a distance, and I can see it coming. I'm hoping I'm wrong, but sure enough:

"Excuse me, can you tell me where the..."

Sorry lady. I don't work here. Nor am I wearing a BRIGHT ORANGE APRON, either! Geezus frucking crisco.

The Container Store, about a half-hour later. When does the madness stop?

"Where can I find....?"

Up your ass, people, that's where you can find it. Or maybe you can ask the people wearing the bright blue shirts, that say "Container Store". I bet THEY can help you.

Half the time I'm tempted to send them in a completely opposite direction. "And when you get there, you'll have to look behind the display for what you want. Trust me its there, I just restocked it this morning. Really."

I remember once some time ago I was in...Pergament. This was a pre-Lowes/Home Depot store. I was wearing a denim jacket, mirrored sunglasses, and headphones. Not those little inconspicuous headphones, but the old 1990s style that everyone can see, the ones that actually rested on your head and covered your ears like winter earmuffs. I was leaned against a display shelf, waiting for my girlfriend to pick out whatever the hell it was she was looking for while I dutifully held the basket full of goodies, when - yep - the little old woman came up and asked me:

"Do you work here?"

Funny, but I never seem to get asked that question at Abercrombie & Fitch. Hmm.