19 January 2008

really.


so, there's this store that i have called, grün. it's chock full of clever gifts, stationery and stuff. i had this really crazy dream of finding cool products and putting it all into one place for people to discover them in all their swellness, but owning a retail store is really freakin' expensive. a business owner has to pay for rent, lights, heat, water, internet, phones, paper, ink, employees, taxes, licenses, fees, products, shipping and ..... you get to eat the cost when someone breaks or damages something... it's endless.

i really do get a lot of satisfaction from the people who truly appreciate the products i've chosen. when they really "get" it. but then there are the days like today when i wonder "what the hell am i really doing this for?" some lady marched into my shop today, acting like we were the best of friends. after she began to speak, i vaguely remembered her from before christmas, buying some stuff and i don't think i was really impressed at the time. i wasn't sure exactly what she wanted today.... something about some products i could order for her "blah blah. convention...i love your store... i feel like i've found a new best friend. i'm here blah..blah...order stuff for me."

she stops short and says.. "i also have a few things to return that i feel a bit weird about." hum.... why was she feeling weird about it? she went on to explain that she had purchased a stick of blue q "get real" lemon lip balm the day before.... "i love lemon but this doesn't taste like lemon." really? are you kidding me?... she continued, "it was only $3 so i thought i would take the chance but you know." reeaaallllly? yeah it was only $3 and this ain't whim-mart.

then she plopped a tin of diablo ignited citrus sour candies onto the counter... "i tried one and was really disappointed... i feel a bit weird (in my head i think: "you should feel weird and really stupid!") but you understand, right?" i was so taken aback by what she wanted to return and what she was actually saying that i just stuttered and stammered and did the return. "take your damned $5.32 and get the hell out of my store and really you don't deserve to have chapstick that cool!"....at least that's what i was screaming in my head.

what store will really take a return on chapstick and candy that's been opened?.. starts with "w" and ends with "t" probably does... and since when is it okay to buy something, try it (like stick it in your mouth) and return it just because you don't happen to think it's what you expected? this unreasonable bending to the will of the customer cultivates a really weird retail culture that only benefits the big box stores. consumers expect bigger quantities, more selection and unquestioning compliance (screw originality or quality) ... then they want you to pay them for taking it off your hands. yeah! we got this really cheap! who cares if some kid in southeast asia get five grains of rice a day for gluing beads onto it.

add to the equation the big guys beating prices down by buying 1 million doodads in twelve different colors, that are cheap knock-offs... when you can only afford to carry 6 in green, but the doodads you have carefully selected are the original, quality stuff, that happens to not suck.

the buying power of the big boxes and the cheap cost of production (because it's crap) confuses and misleads the average consumer into expecting prices to be the same at the big box stores and stores like grün...and then expecting that they can wipe their lips on a stick of chapstick and return it a day later. really. (i won't resell it, maybe frame it to remember the horrific details of the event, but can you really trust that someone making $5.15 an hour in the back room of a big box store wouldn't just throw it back on the shelf?) how can the little guy really afford to compete?

then the clincher.... when these same customers find out that their kids are sucking on lead-laced toys from china, they're all up in your face with a lawsuit... it makes me want to be done as a retailer... and who really ends up sucking on it in the long run? it's not the big guys (they have lawyers and big, fat checkbooks), not china (they are in... well, china). it's me, grün, the attempt at coolness. who just lost another $5.32. what is the point, really.

13 January 2008

B10

some friends and i made the 35 minute drive to mesquite last night to play a little BINGO. you
may think that BINGO is for the geriatric but in reality it is very exciting. you've got your double hardways, the double action, the powerball and of course the dauber cozys. (see picture at right)

the only place i've played BINGO is at the virgin river hotel and casino in mesquite, nevada ... and i can only refer to it by it's entire name... because i don't want people thinking i just went to the "virgin river". i'm comfortable at the virgin river hotel and casino. i know where the BINGO room is located, the same lady hands out the free sodas (by the way her hair is amazing... i have no idea how she makes it so poofy), i know it will reak of stale cigarette smoke, everything is familiar.

last night was a bit different. my friends found out that just across the street was a smoke free BINGO parlor. at the eureka hotel and casino and of course there's the giant hamsteak and eggs meal for like $3.99. so we changed plans. i had anxiety, someplace new... how will it work? will i embarrass myself? will i look stupid? we find the BINGO parlor with relative ease and get in line to buy our cards.



the lady takes one look at my friends and i and says "i sure hope you guys have your id's with you." we all chuckled and she smiled briefly and said... "now get 'em out". (side story: i lost my wallet a month ago and i don't have a driver's license so i've been using my passport as my id.) so i pulled out my passport and she makes a big deal about it (too much attention argh) then she finds my birthday and i sheepishly mumble "i'm flattered you think i'm not old enough" or something lame like that... and the lady bellows.. "oh you're old!." hardeee har har.. ugh.

we try and find a seat together, purchase our dauber from the vending machine... table hop, fight with some native american ladies over chairs they supposedly had reserved and get settled. now you have to understand, BINGO is serious business. people spend entire days and weekends dedicated to BINGO sessions. they stake their claim, settle in with their cozys and know every nuance of the game. you don't mess around in the BINGO session, EVER. our group had a bunch of newbies and was talking loud and marking their cards wrong... again too much attention, but i was hoping it would get better.




i've only won money once before playing BINGO, a total of $17.50 (i paid $11 to play) and that was big time. normally you pay your money, some lady in the corner that is chain smoking wins and you grumble about your bad luck. this night was a bit different. during one of the games i only needed one number to get win. then another number and another.... six numbers... and then from across the room BINGO! damnit i was so close! pay that lucky winner, $50!

as the intensity of the session mounted.. i was marking my numbers as fast as possible trying to remember the rules that are a bit different at the eureka... one you have to call BINGO when you get it and can't wait until the next number is called. two you must yell BINGO loud and hold your card in the air above your head. also, they show the ball on the video screen before it's actually called and you have to wait to call BINGO until the lady actually says the number. so much to remember.

i dubiously mark the numbers as they're called with my bright green dauber. again i get close... two more before i had BINGO, then B15. holy freakin' crap one number left! i begin to sweat. i hope a i win i hope i don't i don't know maybe i marked the card wrong what if i'm lame oh no oh no. then another number is called....nope, not mine... i begin to chant B10, B10, B10 (it never works but i do it anyway). i focused my attention on the video screen to see the next number up.... the caller slowly turned the ball around... and it's.....B10.. B10? that's it! i yell (as much as i do... so it' was probably talking loudly to most people) BINGO! i even do a bit of fist pumping and celebrating...

all of a sudden the crowd is mumbling... like an angry mob "do you need B10? she didn't call it yet... you can't win she didn't call it grrrrr grumble" i begin to panic.... oh no they stopped the BINGO session because of me.. what if i messed up? the checker lady comes over to look at my card and says "honey, you have to wait until the number is actually called." i was mortified.... i thought i was going to get beat up by the crowd of senior citizens for messing things up... so the caller resumed her composure and called out "B10"... i sheepishly say "BINGO" and held my card up, not like everyone in the room wasn't waiting for it. the checker lady laughs loudly and chastises me for not calling it louder...rahhh. then, there was a few seconds where they were checking my card and it looked like it wasn't right and i had messed up... oh freakin no! i felt dumb... dumb... dumb.

a few moments later someone plunked four $20's, one $10, one $5 and five $1 gold chips down in front of me and i felt a bit better.. pay that lucky winner $100! worth the social anxiety and sweat rings?... maybe so.


08 January 2008

the alarmdoggie

i work. a lot. too much in fact. i just don't know when to quit.

a couple of months ago i adopted a doggie from my good friend, brie. his name is shep, sheppie, shepdog, shepcat, shepherd, shepititus. yes, he is worthy of all those names and many more.

when i was only responsible for me, my life was work... work... work. apparently, shepititus hasn't the tolerance for 10 or 12 hours at the grindstone. towards the end of long work days he begins to attack me or my employees, bark incesently, run crazed throughout the shop tearing anything he can into tiny pieces. most days that's enough for me to realize it's quitting time.. sheppie is a needy little bugger and tends to always get his way. ... we head home.

then...
there are the days when i have too much to do and i am able to withstand shepherd's diligent attacks. after all his aforementioned tactics fail, shepcat brings out the big guns...



shep cleverly seems to weasel his way onto my desk and lets out a big sigh.




enter stage left...

the look.




it's a look i can't refuse. the alarmdoggie wins... we head for home. am i better for it? i do believe.


thanks for the helping me work less brie.