Four years in retail: a look back
I've written about my stranger customers before, but this isn't the purpose of this post. While I'll miss some (and be glad to be shot of others), I'm wondering more about the withdrawal symptoms, if you will, from no longer working in CD retail.
Speak to any one of my colleagues and they will tell you it's become second nature, when seeing an untidy CD rack, to put some order into it - pushing CDs back upright, filling gaps, that sort of thing. Many of us in fact find it difficult to restrain ourselves even in other CD shops; you really have to make an effort to keep your hands away from the CDs, to restrain yourself. As of Friday, I won't be required to do any of this, anywhere, but I expect it'll be a while before I can tame this automatic gesture.
I've also become very used to offering recommendations on available recordings of any given piece, even outside work - the sort of thing that arises in conversation, where my opinion is (for better or worse) seen as being of some value. Again, it'll probably prove difficult not to do this, especially as I can imagine some of my friends and acquaintances may take some time to understand that I'm no longer bang up-to-date with new recordings.
One of my supervisors, back when I'd just started in CD retail - working for the competition, in London - asked me if I'd done this before as I'd taken to it like a duck to water (quite a compliment, considering my lack of experience). I put it down more to my polite disposition, making an effort to treat all queries with the same courtesy, no matter what I may think of the customer's tastes. While I don't imagine that'll change for a moment, I've noticed that I'm apt to be over-polite as a customer in other shops, stepping out of someone's way with the words "excuse me", more often than not followed by "Sir" or "Madam", which is taking it a little far. Thankfully this is something I seem to have picked up only recently so I trust I can ditch it with relative ease.
That said, having to be courteous to complete scumbags, who would never get away with such ill-mannered behaviour elsewhere, is not something I'll miss. One of my previous supervisors often said that we should have "honest Thursdays", maybe once a month or thereabouts, days on which we could let rip, or at least tell customers when they are being unreasonable/rude/irreconcilably stupid (feel free to add to this list).
I'm sort of wondering if I shouldn't go down that route, maybe gradually over the next week, in an effort to minimise the likely withdrawal symptoms. It's bound to be a lot of fun, allowing myself to tell people that the compilation they want to get (Chilled out classics or the like) is a load of bollocks, that Russell Watson is a dreadful singer or that Bond may be a string quartet but that doesn't mean they play classical music. It needn't even be restricted to all the crossover repertoire, as I could come out with a few choice remarks concerning the more serious side: Simon Rattle's umpteen recordings with the Berlin Philharmoniker aren't anywhere near as good as they ought to be, or Cecilia Bartoli's voice, once gorgeously rich, now verges on the screechy. Oh, and you know that recommendation I gave you on Bruckner's 9th you're always going on about? Complete bluff, mate, I've never even heard the piece (at least, not knowingly) and as it happens, you misread my enthusiasm: Bruckner does sod-all for me ...
Who knows, I might yet come out with a line I've wanted to say for years. (I've nothing against the piece in question but the pun's there for the picking, so ...) "Carmina burana? Carl Orff - as in 'bugger'."
Speak to any one of my colleagues and they will tell you it's become second nature, when seeing an untidy CD rack, to put some order into it - pushing CDs back upright, filling gaps, that sort of thing. Many of us in fact find it difficult to restrain ourselves even in other CD shops; you really have to make an effort to keep your hands away from the CDs, to restrain yourself. As of Friday, I won't be required to do any of this, anywhere, but I expect it'll be a while before I can tame this automatic gesture.
I've also become very used to offering recommendations on available recordings of any given piece, even outside work - the sort of thing that arises in conversation, where my opinion is (for better or worse) seen as being of some value. Again, it'll probably prove difficult not to do this, especially as I can imagine some of my friends and acquaintances may take some time to understand that I'm no longer bang up-to-date with new recordings.
One of my supervisors, back when I'd just started in CD retail - working for the competition, in London - asked me if I'd done this before as I'd taken to it like a duck to water (quite a compliment, considering my lack of experience). I put it down more to my polite disposition, making an effort to treat all queries with the same courtesy, no matter what I may think of the customer's tastes. While I don't imagine that'll change for a moment, I've noticed that I'm apt to be over-polite as a customer in other shops, stepping out of someone's way with the words "excuse me", more often than not followed by "Sir" or "Madam", which is taking it a little far. Thankfully this is something I seem to have picked up only recently so I trust I can ditch it with relative ease.
That said, having to be courteous to complete scumbags, who would never get away with such ill-mannered behaviour elsewhere, is not something I'll miss. One of my previous supervisors often said that we should have "honest Thursdays", maybe once a month or thereabouts, days on which we could let rip, or at least tell customers when they are being unreasonable/rude/irreconcilably stupid (feel free to add to this list).
I'm sort of wondering if I shouldn't go down that route, maybe gradually over the next week, in an effort to minimise the likely withdrawal symptoms. It's bound to be a lot of fun, allowing myself to tell people that the compilation they want to get (Chilled out classics or the like) is a load of bollocks, that Russell Watson is a dreadful singer or that Bond may be a string quartet but that doesn't mean they play classical music. It needn't even be restricted to all the crossover repertoire, as I could come out with a few choice remarks concerning the more serious side: Simon Rattle's umpteen recordings with the Berlin Philharmoniker aren't anywhere near as good as they ought to be, or Cecilia Bartoli's voice, once gorgeously rich, now verges on the screechy. Oh, and you know that recommendation I gave you on Bruckner's 9th you're always going on about? Complete bluff, mate, I've never even heard the piece (at least, not knowingly) and as it happens, you misread my enthusiasm: Bruckner does sod-all for me ...
Who knows, I might yet come out with a line I've wanted to say for years. (I've nothing against the piece in question but the pun's there for the picking, so ...) "Carmina burana? Carl Orff - as in 'bugger'."
posted by Anthony at
09:35
1 Comments:
Hi there - Just doing the rounds of the 'Edinburgh' area blogs. There's a blogmeet on the 18th, in the Jolly Judge. More details on the Scottish Blogs website.
pass it on.
By
Gordon, at 3/2/06 21:24
Post a Comment
<< Home