The Shark Encounter

Have you ever met someone for the first time and instantly felt like you were going have a negative encounter?

As though something about their ‘vibe’ made your intuition say, WARNING! WARNING!

I have.

In fact, I met someone like that last week at work.

Often during this time of the year in cosmetic retail, vendors will send in additional support in the way of hiring seasonal freelance workers to help out in the store, promoting their particular line of cosmetics or fragrances.

Let me start off by saying that it’s challenging for a seasonal freelance worker to come into a new and unfamiliar store to work for a brief period of time, because most cosmetic departments have a certain rhythm in which they run, therefore the freelancer has to learn how to quickly adapted to the rhythm and abide by it.

Whenever a seasonal worker comes into our store, I will always introduce myself by welcoming them to our department, and letting them know that if they have any questions or need help, to just ask me. I try to put them at ease, and convey to them that ’we’ in our department work as a team; helping one another.

I can honestly say, that most everyone I work with in my department is a joy.

Sure, we do have a couple of SHARKS, but on the whole, it‘s a pretty tame department.

And trust me, I’ve worked with some people in several cosmetic departments over the past 26 years, that makes Sea Worlds’ Shark Encounter look like a fish bowl full of gobies.

The cosmetic industry is a tough and competitive business, therefore it attracts a lot of aggressive people. And with the economy the way that it is, people are afraid they’ll lose their jobs if they don’t PRODUCE, which makes them get desperate for sales….and at times, just plain NASTY.

However, I don’t play this way. I’m fair and honest, and would never try to intercept someone else’s sale by butting in and pushing my own goods.

Everyone at work knows this about me, and reciprocates the same respect.

Except, seasonal freelance workers will often times try to “test me” because they assume I’m nice and easy. In other words, a pushover.

That is, until they PUSH me.

Such as it was last week, when a seasonal worker (shark) came into our store to help out with one of the cosmetic lines.

As soon as I saw her, I knew she was trouble - the hair on my neck stood up. She had a perpetual scowl on her face, as if she hadn't taken a bowel movement in over a month. Yet, I did what I normally do and greeted her politely, and welcomed her to our department.

However, throughout the day, I noticed that whenever a customer came over to my counter (while I was busy helping another customer) she would swim over and PRETEND to help them with my line, but was SHARKLY trying to push her own products in the hopes that the customer would choose hers over mine.

I let her first and second interceptions go, but when she did it to me a THIRD time I immediately walked over and introduced myself to the customer; informing them that I was the representative for the line and that if they had any questions they could ask ME. And as the customer was busy looking at my products, I gave the SHARK a look with my eyes that said, “YO, HO.…BACK OFF!”

Many of my other fellow employees began to notice that she was doing the same thing to them.

We all eventually got together and spoke to the department manager, explaining to her what was going on with the SHARK, and asked her to speak with her; letting her know that she needed to stay at her own counter and mind her own business.

I watched, as the manager spoke to her, being very stern about how we work in the department and that her way of selling would not be tolerated.

Of course, the SHARK defensively explained that she was only trying to help.

HELP??? HA! Yeah….helping herself to a SALE!

The SHARK got very upset at being reprimanded and said that she would not accept being spoken to that way, then grabbed her coat and stormed out of the store.

Gee, I hated to see her go.

*tee, hee*

Bye-bye, SHARK….

Black Friday....And The Bird

As most of my longtime readers know, I notoriously post about how HIDEOUS it is in the retail world on this particular day, and how much I DREAD going into work; dealing with the mass hysteria of Black Friday.

I would almost rather dive off the Empire State Building into a bucket of thumbtacks.

Yes, it’s a great day for the consumer because of the sales, I know. But it’s PAINFUL for those of us on the other side of the cosmetic counter, not only because of the crazed crowds, but also because today begins a month-long challenge of dealing with cosmetic and fragrance customers who will ask us, “If I buy something from you, what are you going to give me EXTRA?”

This whole thing about giving something EXTRA to a customer when they buy something from the cosmetic industry has gotten so out of hand, because now purchasing something has turned into a BARGAINING game.

A FLEA MARKET.

A LET’S MAKE A DEAL.

And this is a result of the Estee Lauder Company (which is one of the most aggressive cosmetic companies in the business) when they originally created a MONSTER by offering a free gift with purchase; making the public believe that unless we give them something EXTRA, they’re not getting what they paid for. But what they really did was make the public spend more money to GET the gift.

Sly little boogers.

Yet, not all of us in this industry work for companies who offer free gifts (such as myself), therefore I have to sell my goods by conveying to a customer that what we offer is simply a high quality item, so that’s what they’re getting as an EXTRA.

High quality.

Plus, I try very hard to give the best professional customer service by not being typically pushy, but rather by being attentive, sincere, and knowledgeable. I will also give samples as a token of appreciation.

Personally, I would much rather receive good customer service (which is VOID nowadays) than receive an EXTRA gift, which nine times out of ten is something I would sell at a garage sale with sticker of price of 50 cents.

I’m all for sales and offering specials now and then, because they give consumers a break in the their spending. But this whole EXTRA-FREE GIFT thing with every purchase is for the birds.

So I’ve decided this year, when I get exhausted from standing on my feet for 10 hours, and crash after my caffeine rush wears off, and my patience becomes as thin as a piece of unwaxed dental floss, that whenever a customer demandingly asks me, “If I buy something from you, what are you going to give me EXTRA?”

I will say, “How about this EXTRA exotic bird……”

Have a faaaaabulous weekend everyone!

And pray for me….please.

X

Memories of Thanksgiving Day And Dinner Rolls

Allow me to start off by saying that my stepmother is an outstanding cook.

And this is a woman who at the young age of 21, married my 45-year old father and knew nothing about cooking. She was raised in a family with three older brothers, so she was more of a tomboy than a Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart-type girl.

She married into my family who were your typical Moonstruck Italians, where cooking and eating were about as crucial to them as turning ‘tricks’ are to a prostitute.

They’re MANDATORY.

I’m sure the first question out my relatives mouths when my father told them that he had asked my mother to marry him were, “But Frank....CAN SHE COOK?”

My mother was honest with my father before she married him and said that she knew nothing about cooking, cleaning, or raising his children because she was just a child herself.

However, she ended up surprising the hell out of herself and my family because she quickly discovered that she was born with a natural ability to not only cook, but also maintain a brilliant household.

And I’m not just saying this because she’s my mother, but this lady made Susie Homemaker look like a novice.

Our home always felt comfortable, relaxed and welcoming. And at the same time, spotlessly clean!

I am extremely blessed and proud to have her as my second mother. And I never realized this until I got a bit older and began looking back on my childhood; seeing what a great one it was, MUCHLY due to her.

Anyway, getting back to my mothers cooking….

She was one of those people who never followed recipes as they were written, but rather took the basic formula and added her own twist. She instinctively knew what to add and what to subtract, creating her own culinary masterpiece. She was like an artist - raw and intuitive.

And as far as her Italian cooking goes, her marinara sauce is so good that it would impress even the most savvy of Italian chiefs. Yes….it’s THAT good!

*smacking my lips*

Bellissima!

Our Thanksgiving Day dinner was always a feast - a cornucopia of soup to nuts. We inevitably ended up having so much food left over that we could eat turkey, dressing, and all the various side dish ancillaries for the next few days.

And speaking of turkey, her bird came out of the oven so tender, moist and juicy, that it literally melted in your mouth.

However.

And this was a TRADITIONAL however.

When it came to the dinner rolls my mother always forgot they were in the oven, therefore about ten minutes after sitting down to the table and saying grace, the aroma of BURNING rolls came wafting out of the kitchen. Whereupon she would scream, “OH DAMN.…I FORGOT THE DINNER ROLLS!!!!!”

She would JUMP up from the table and RUN to oven door, throwing it open, as a large cloud of black smoke came bellowing out like the burning of Atlanta. At which point she would turn on the overhead exhaust fan, sucking out all the odor and smoke before the fire department ever got there.

God love her!

And I can still remember her bringing those poor little burnt dinner rolls to the table, telling us to eat them anyway because charcoal is good for cleaning your teeth….

Wishing you and your family a Happy Thanksgiving Day!....X

Seeing Ourselves Clearly

A few nights ago, I was watching an episode of Sex and the City on DVD and found myself inspired by one of the questions that Carrie Bradshaw typed on her Mac laptop….

And it’s true, it is easier to see someone else more clearly than we do ourselves.

I remember many years ago when one of my friends described me as someone who was INTENSE.

And I was shocked! Me? Intense?

For some reason I never really saw myself that way, therefore retaliated intensively, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN INTENSE? I’M NOT INTENSE!!!!”

Years later, I began to see that he was right, I am intense. But for some reason back then, I associated the word intense only with something negative. I now realize that intense can also mean passionate, which I am.

But why is it that we can see others more clearly than we do ourselves?

I think the answer is because we’re standing too close; unable to look above and see ourselves from a birds eye view. We’re so busy trying to be ourselves, that we can’t always see objectively.

I use to always pride myself on being able to see myself crystal clear, but discovered that it was a false pride because the view I have of myself is often times clouded by judgment and comparison.

I remember a time when someone referred to me as attractive. Well, you could have knocked me over the head with a rubber mallet because I never thought of myself as being attractive. So the first thing out of my mouth was, “Attractive? Compared to who?"

And even now, at this stage of my life, I am still bowled over when someone will reveal something to me about myself that I’ve never noticed.

Now I’m not saying that I have to agree with everything everyone says, but it does give me the chance to see myself in a different light.

This also pertains to making choices about things. I have a few friends, who if I’m having a difficult time making a decision about something, will ask for their advice.

I think it’s important to stay open to how people who we respect view us.

Because they might just see something we don’t.

Have wonderful weekend everyone!

X

Christmas Wish List Of Days Gone By

With the Christmas holidays quickly approaching, I thought I’d share a few of the toys I asked Santa for when I as a kid.

Now remember, when I was a youngster (during the 1950’s and 60’s ) there were no high-tech gadgets such as, computers or video games, so you had to use your imagination to play.

Oh dear….what’s imagination you ask?

That’s that thing in our brains which many kids of today have slowly forgotten about because technology, as wonderful as it is, has NUMBED it into oblivion.

However, when I was a kid you had to use your imagination to create something from nothing.

I can still remember using one of my mothers empty plastic Clorox bleach bottles to create a PIGGY BANK.


I wasn’t a kid who wished for anything outlandishly expensive or complicated. I much preferred playing with toys that were simple; allowing me to use my creativity.

Here are some of the things I placed on my Christmas wish list of days gone by…..

Magic 8 Ball: I loved this toy because it always made me feel like a psychic - as though I could predict the future. One of my favorite questions to ask was, “Will I pass my math test on Wednesday?” The Magic 8 Ball always said, “You may rely on it.” But it LIED….because I always FAILED.

Etch A Sketch: One of my favorite things to do with this toy was to privately sit in my bedroom on a Saturday afternoon and sketch dirty words like: SHIT, BITCH, and ASS, and then quickly turned it over and erase them before my mother walked in and caught me. *Yeah, I was an EVIL child.

Colorforms: I loved this toy not only because it was so much fun to create little scenes from my favorite cartoon The Jetsons, but more so because of the way the plastic colorform pieces SMELLED. Somehow the aroma of colorforms sent me into a blissful state of nirvana; sniffing the pieces and staring into SPACE.

Polaroid Swinger Camera: I just HAD to have one of these when I was a kid. I guess that was when I began my interest in photography. The year I got this camera for Christmas, it also came with FOUR cartridges of film. ALL of which I used to take photographs of my younger brother Tom. At one point my mother said to me, “Okay, Ronnie….can you at least take pictures of something else? I’m SICK of looking at your BROTHER!!!!!”

Operation: This game was not only fun, but also nerve-wracking because if you accidentally set off the red alarm on the patients nose, it made you JUMP off the floor and SCREAM. Later, when I got much older (into my 30’s) it was even more fun to play this game with friends after smoking some grass; making us ultra PARANOID.

Barbie: This was a toy I had always wished for, but never got. Bummer.

DAMN YOU, SANTA! Didn’t you realize I was GAY????

Just, Thank You

When we initially start a blog, we often think in terms of SINGULAR.

Meaning, that this is OUR blog.

Which, technically, it is.

It’s our own cyber-space where we share whatever moves us, whether it be a specific topic blog on art, photography, fictional stories, crafts, or simply a personal blog where we share a mélange.

However, we eventually begin to realize that a blog is not like a private paper journal in which we write solely for our own enjoyment and fulfillment, because a blog includes readers.

A blog is a sensitive blend of staying true to what we wish to share, and at the same time never forgetting about the people who read it.

What starts off as a single thread (a post), becomes a tapestry of interaction between the author and reader.

It’s kinda like acting onstage. If you didn’t have an audience, it would merely be performing to an empty house. As a stage actor, you rely on the audience for their feedback which propels you forward.

You need to feel their energy.

I suppose that’s why I’ve always preferred the stage to screen, because I enjoy the presence of a live audience.

Performing onstage is a give and take.

You can’t do it alone.

Performing onstage is a shared experience.

And having a blog is also a shared experience.

Family and friends who read my blog have often asked me why I respond to every comment because it just seems like too much work. But for me, it never feels like work because I get so much enjoyment from it. I mean just the fact that someone would take the time to read my words and share a comment, makes me so appreciative that I WANT to respond back.

I also get so much enjoyment from leaving comments on YOUR blogs. And being YOUR audience; cheering you on, sharing support, and contributing in my own way.

Blogging is truly about community; bringing people together.

Therefore, I would like to take this time to just say, thank you.

To ALL of you who come and share your thoughts, feelings, and opinions. And for always sharing them with such openness, kindness, humor, and respect.

Honestly, I don’t think I would have this blog for as long as it‘s been, if it weren’t for you.

My sincere wish is that you always feel very much appreciated, valued, and cherished.

Have a maaaaaavalous weekend!

X

More Bees With Honey Than Vinegar

Let me start off by being completely honest in saying that patience is not one of my strongest virtues. On a scale of 1 to 10, patience lands somewhere around minus 1 when it comes to me. And not only am I impatient, but sometimes intolerant - especially when it comes to people doing their jobs correctly. Or rather, how “I” see them being done correctly.

I am fully aware of WHY I am impatient with others. I am impatient with others because I’m impatient with myself and the high standards I place on my own doing.

However, every so often I will learn a lesson in patience.

-----------------------------------

Last Monday morning, I remembered a saying that my mother told me as a kid.

“You catch more bees with honey than vinegar.”

And the reason I remembered this was because for the THIRD time in the one year that I’ve worked for this particular vendor, the payroll company they use claims that they did not receive my payroll invoice - therefore, couldn’t pay me.

Which made me want to go insane and scream, “YOU STUPID IDIOTS! YOU LOST MY INVOICE AGAIN!”

Allow me to explain….

In order for me to get paid, I have to fill out and fax an invoice to a payroll company with both my hours worked and productivity totals. Once they get the invoice, they cut a check and then direct deposit into my checking account.

However, something in my psyche told me they hadn’t received my invoice from the previous week, so I decided to listen my intuition and call them to double check.

I was right, they hadn’t gotten my invoice. Well…I don’t think it’s because they hadn’t gotten it because this has happened THREE times. I really think it’s because someone in the office misplaced or lost them. I mean come on, I had fax confirmation reports clearly stating that my invoices went through, so I knew ALL three had gotten there.

Let me just add here, that I also work for another vendor who I also fax my invoices to, yet this has never happened with them in SIX years.

Anyway, after calling them very early Monday morning and being told they never got my fax, I began to feel agitated and extremely annoyed. I was told to call them back after 3 p.m. to see if they had found my invoice. So I waited (impatiently) while cleaning my apartment, because that’s what I do when I’m agitated and annoyed. I clean.

At 3:05, I called them back and was told they did NOT find my invoice and that I’d have to fax it again.

SON. OF. A. BITCH.

Well….I wish you all could have seen my body language at that point. I looked liked the Wicked Witch of the West after she discovered that Dorothy possessed the Ruby Red Slippers, and realized there was no way in hell she could get them off her feet unless she KILLED her.

I almost exploded into a ball of FLAMES.

But suddenly, I heard my mothers voice saying…..

“Remember, you catch more bees with honey than vinegar, Ronnie”

So instead of screaming, I decided to change the ‘tone’ of my voice into Shirley Temple, and be very sweet to the lady who was helping me. I BEGGED her to make sure that if I re-faxed my invoice, she would be positive I got paid on Friday. It was then that she said, “I’ll tell you what….just fax your invoice directly to me and I’ll be SURE it gets to the right place as fast as possible.”

I thanked her profusely and told her that I really appreciated her kind efforts.

So, I RAN to Kinko’s and immediately faxed it to the number she gave me because she was leaving her office at 3:30.

Once I got I back from Kinko’s, I called her office to ask if she had received it. Where upon, she said that she had.

YAHOOOO!

And not only did she tell me that she got it, but also said that she would hand deliver it to the proper person so that my paycheck would be direct deposited by Friday. Positive.

I said, “OMG…thank you! You’re a doll and a life-saver. I could KISS you!”

She giggled and said, “You’re very welcome.”

So you see, my mother was right….you DO catch more bees with honey!

However, I’ll have to remember that the next time I get impatient and intolerant.

Which…um…will probably be within the next 24-hours.

A Man Who’s An Inspiration

Today, I would like to share a story about a man who I don’t know personally, but often see in the store at which I work.

As I’ve shared in many of my posts, I am extremely sensitive to peoples energy and can usually feel it within the first few minutes of seeing or meeting them.

I can still remember the very first time I saw this particular man, riding through the cosmetic department in his wheelchair.

There was a tremendous sense of confidence in his energy. And not a cocky confidence, but rather a quiet and powerful confidence that simply said, “I’m perfectly comfortable with myself.”

He also exuded a sense of genuine happiness and deep inner peace.

Whenever I saw him, he was always smiling.

I took him to be in his mid-30’s. Handsome and well-dressed.

But it was more than just what he looked like, that caught your attention.

It was his whole persona.

He had a light about him.

Allow me to interject here, that I have always had a tender spot in my heart for those who are physically challenged. And not because I feel sorry for them, but rather because I have great admiration and respect.

It’s tough enough in this world to make it through with all our physical faculties intact. But, it’s even more tough to go through this world being physically challenged.

Throughout these past few years, I’ve seen this gentleman in the store during his lunch hour, sometimes purchasing a fragrance in the men’s department. And every single time I see him, I can’t help but feel that he is a very special human being. As if he’s a wise and enlightened soul, with something very important to teach the rest of us.

One day last week, I saw him ride through the department and head over to one of the cosmetic counters across the isle from where I was standing.

I watched, as one of the ladies (who I know fairly well), greeted him with a big smile.

And I was somewhat surprised because I had no idea that she even knew him.

He handed her a white plastic bag. And has she reached in and took out the contents, I could see that it was a box of pastries.

I heard her say thank you, and then gave him a hug.

The whole time I was observing this interaction between the two of them, I found myself feeling very emotional.

After he left, I walked over and asked her who he was and how she knew him.

Apparently, she and he have known each other for many years because they grew up in the same neighborhood.

I asked if she wouldn’t mind confiding in me why he was in the wheelchair.

And she did.

She told me his name is Frankie. And that when he was in his early 20's, he was driving a motorcycle and got hit by a car; leaving him paralyzed from the chest down.

She also told me that he was the most incredible person she had ever known, because after he found out that he was paralyzed, he accepted it with such amazing grace.

He never had the attitude, “Why me?”

He just embraced this challenge, and proceeded with his life.

He went to college, got a degree, and ended up landing an incredible job.

He also creates videos, which are targeted for other people who are physically challenged. The videos are tutorials on things like: how to adjust to using a wheelchair, how to get in and out of bed, how to shower and groom yourself, and how to live a normal and full life being paralyzed.

After she told me this, my eyes welled up with tears because my feelings had been correct….he was special.

Here was a man, who took what most people would perceive as a negative, and turned it into a positive.

Here was a man, who at such a young age could have spent the rest of his life being bitter. But instead, spends his life helping others.

Here was a man, who instead of frowning, carries a smile on his face.

And here was a man….who is an inspiration to us ALL.

There is no such thing as limitation.

It’s all in how we embrace it.

Thank you, Frankie. You're my hero.

And when I grow up.....I wanna be just like you!

Wishing you an inspiring weekend everyone!

X