Working in malls from the age of 16 through 25 really did a number on me, I guess you could say. Maybe not all former mall employees wind up as disgruntled as I did for a long time, but I think it's safe to say that any kind of career retail employee can attest to the fact that working Christmas in a mall does something to your psyche and you are forever changed somehow. You see a whole different, distorted, gross side of people and Christmas lore and it puts things into a whole new perspective.
I remember one particularly stressful Saturday afternoon of working in retail during the Christmas rush when I was probably about 23. I was managing a Sunglass Hut kiosk at that point in time, out in the middle of the mall like being on an island in the middle of crazy town.
It was almost Christmas, just a few days before, when a lot of customers turn into real assholes to deal with because they've waited until the last minute to shop, they're running out of money or are overspending and know it, and don't really want to be there.
Those people colliding with tired, overworked mall employees who have to eat shit with a smile from customers like that makes for some interesting conflicts and interactions throughout the span of an afternoon (or from open to close, as many of us in retail have had to do). When it gets busy in retail during Christmas, you often have to sacrifice your lunch and work through it, which makes for even more holiday cheer.
Christmas to me had become nothing but long, drawn out minutes measured and counted down as windows of time endured to get me through to my next cigarette break. How's that for holiday spirit?
Christmas to me had become nothing but long, drawn out minutes measured and counted down as windows of time endured to get me through to my next cigarette break. How's that for holiday spirit?
The mall muzak had been on repeat for weeks, forcing all of us who worked in kiosks to endure the same songs over and over and over and over. This can quickly ruin any bit of endearing sentiments you have about Christmas music and make even the first few notes of these kinds of classics cause your stomach to churn. It was driving me nuts. It was getting to the point where I was so distracted by how much the music was annoying me that I couldn't concentrate on anything else.
I remember blowing a fuse and escaping to the public restroom (since being in a kiosk, we had no bathroom of our own) to grab a few moments to collect my shit. Splashing cold water on my face to cool my hot head, I looked up at my reflection in the mirror remember thinking, "If I have to listen to 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,' one more time I am going to fucking kill someone. Kill someone!"
Then what do you know? Right at that moment, right on cue, I was bitched slapped by irony and "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" came on overhead, echoing through the noisy, overcrowded, smelly public women's restroom. And I started laughing and crying at the same time.
I must have looked like a crazy person, standing there laughing and bawling my eyes out, make up running down my face and shaking in my crisp, clean cut black Express slacks and button up executive blouse and high heeled black boots- a type of manager "uniform" that I wore back in that era of my life and a style that when I see it on someone else, I am reminded of working in a mall (and I shudder).
Oh yes- Christmas can make you crazy when you work in retail. It can get pretty obnoxious. You don't even want to know some of the things that mall employees have said about you once you've left their store- even if you haven't done anything particularly interesting: every one is a potential victim for shit talking and razzing. It's open season and you're all helpless little bunnies.
Case in point- an old friend of mine and I, while working one of many Christmas seasons together in a mall, dreamed up our own Christmas musical, complete with dance numbers and songs about pissed off customers, long hours on our feet and hearing the words, "Just looking!" a hundred thousand times a day. We called it, "Have a Cock and Balls Christmas!" the musical.
It's awful and completely inappropriate I know, but when all the burners on the stove get cranked up during the Christmas rush while working in retail, you do what you can to keep yourselves entertained and short of strangling customers with your bare hands.
It's amazing what life can do to you over the years- wear you out, beat you up and tarnish even the most joyful things that you looked forward to as a child- like Christmas- spitting you out as a bitter, tired adult with Christmas budgets and responsibilities and pleasing family members expectations of you and your time.
Then just the same, life can pick you up and dust you off, pat you on the butt like a child and send you on your way again with a fresh start. "Run along now! Do over!"
Children are magical in this way during the holidays- I attest to this as a former Grade A Grinch. Santa ceases to exist as just that guy in a costume that that noisy long line of families is waiting to get their picture taken with in the mall.
He gets to be real again!
I now voluntarily play Christmas music because Jude likes it (and I like it too). During his first Christmas season in 2009, I went out on a limb and bought a Christmas soundtrack (ELF Soundtrack), aspiring to turn a new leaf and start Christmas over again in my life as something happy and fun and wonderful. After all, kids are a clean slate- immune to disgruntling woes of retail life, being pulled in half like a wish bone on holidays and spending too much or not enough on gifts for everyone.
So we listen to the ELF soundtrack during the month of December while we do Christmas things. We read Christmas stories- like the "Grinch Who Stole Christmas" which is Jude's favorite and always reminds me of my super bad attitude back in the day during this time of year. I always tell him that I used to be a Grinch and he thinks it's funny. He doesn't realize how serious I am, but that's OK- because it's probably a good thing.
I would rather he only know me as Mommy who gives him Christmas treats for breakfast and dances and sings like a dork and twirls and throws him around during Christmas music to make him laugh, and puts up Christmas lights and makes Christmas crafts with him.
I will be the mom that discourages him from getting a seasonal job in a mall during Christmas when he gets into high school so that he always likes Christmas and is never forced to have a nervous breakdown in a stinky public mall restroom because he's that sick of Christmas music. That's just not right!
CHRISTMAS COOKIE MONSTER
We hear, "I need a cookie!" at least 20 times a day now. Insistently. Like, him following us around the house repeating it over and over and over again, tugging on our pants and shirt bottoms. It's as funny as it is irritating, because I'm usually thinking the same thing.
I need a cookie too.
JUDE AND NILES ENTERTAINING ONE ANOTHER WITH HOLIDAY STRING
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