We Don't Get Mad, We Get Italian

As Retail Service Workers, we do not get much respect. People do not understand the behind the scenes work we do as "gnomes" to make stores look presentable and the workload we take off of actual employees of stores, so that they may be even more invisible when you come-a-shopping in their establishment. Even those employees sometimes cannot give us props for doing our job.

For instance, recently a worker in one of these stores approached one of my supervisors complaining of how dispicable we were for leaving such a mess for him to stare at over several days. As he badgered my co-worker, our boss, The Don, stepped in to make some sense of this. If anyone else were to attempt to make sense of this retail anomaly, it would hurt their head worse than receiving a blow to the cranium from one of those keen Ludell sledgehammers that we service. He did this in a calm, yet stern manner, comparable to Al Pacino in The Godfather films. Rather does he lose his cool, but his words speak volumes, and if one were to not listen, they would experience his wrath.

He asked this fellow how he knew it was his boys leaving this mess. No answer. He asked how a "responsible and upstanding" employee could pass such a mess up so many times and only complain about it. No answer. By feeding the nonsense back at this man, our boss defended our honor and converted this numb nut into a bumbling idiot. Then in one swift motion, as the man walked away, The Don, ripped one of our wired book racks off the wall and slammed it into the idiot's calves. The whole scen reminded me of Joe Pesci losing it in Casino.

You have heard of "going postal", but this is an example of how an IRS worker goes Italian. We can stay so cool and calm until an eventual breaking point. It's bound to happen.