I got a tip! I helped this guy load his pictures, then I trimmed them so they fit in the envelope he has to send to the city. Obviously I did awesome, because he threw me a five.
This week has been going super-slow. Me and the guy at Register One switched places so I was relieved of the monotony of the evening duties of Photo.
I helped out my favorite regular again, and she was more hilarious tonight then she was last night. She told me about her and her husband's eating schedule (she doesn't cook on Sundays) and I told her to eat her vegetables. When we got to images she already printed, I let her know. Then she had a few questions about the price. (Actually, one question repeated).
I chatted with a mom of an older boy, who said that yes, the Tooth Fairy comes to boys, and perhaps she would bring me her son's old Halloween costume (pumpkin-related) but only if it wasn't in storage. Understandable. And appreciated.
Apparently I had an evaluation tonight. Whatevs.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Voyeuristic Photo Tech
A new grandma came in a wanted to print photos of her brand-new grand-baby, still in the hospital. Her son wouldn't let her use the flash, so we had to work around the florescent lighting. When the photos came out, they were very yellow, and a tad green. She hadn't bothered to correct them at all. I told her I would able to fiddle with them on the main computer we had. She was to come back after dinner. (She took her son out for a celebration dinner...not sure how I would feel if my hubs was out and about right after I gave birth.) I was able to color-correct the images to an acceptable near- flesh tone. There was still a green and yellow tint, but it was slight, and it just showed where the images were taken. One of them was of the proud papa and stressed-out newborn. There were some hospital see-it-all lamps behind them, and when I adjusted the brightness and the color, the lamp glowed from behind them like an translucent and eerie (in a good way) cloud. It looked almost ghost-like, and despite the modern equipment and clothes, it looked like it could transcend through time. They were memorable and beautiful images, and I feel blessed to have been able to see them. I wish there were more pictures of my birth experience.
Sometimes I feel very lucky when people allow me access to their images. I very much enjoy the glimpse into people's lives. It gives me time to think about the fact that even in this day and age, we still like our images printed, we still need to have a snapshot of that birthday or that car ride. I also like looking through old photos and postcards when I browse in antique stores. I'm that nosey.
A photo regular of mine came in, having stolen her husband's camera when he was sleeping so she could make prints of his images. We spent a long time talking about her fish images, which were of the fish they caught, her with the fish, and some fish guts on the ground. I printed 246 4x6s for her because her husband is a good photographer and had images from 2010. She can't see very well, and has a really thick accent, and she is getting old and crazy. But I like looking through her images, because evidentially she is very active. I also helped her pick out mousse.
When my coworker went on her fifteen minute break, I thought she went on her lunch, which means I thought it was a lot later than it was. The day dragged on.
Sometimes I feel very lucky when people allow me access to their images. I very much enjoy the glimpse into people's lives. It gives me time to think about the fact that even in this day and age, we still like our images printed, we still need to have a snapshot of that birthday or that car ride. I also like looking through old photos and postcards when I browse in antique stores. I'm that nosey.
A photo regular of mine came in, having stolen her husband's camera when he was sleeping so she could make prints of his images. We spent a long time talking about her fish images, which were of the fish they caught, her with the fish, and some fish guts on the ground. I printed 246 4x6s for her because her husband is a good photographer and had images from 2010. She can't see very well, and has a really thick accent, and she is getting old and crazy. But I like looking through her images, because evidentially she is very active. I also helped her pick out mousse.
When my coworker went on her fifteen minute break, I thought she went on her lunch, which means I thought it was a lot later than it was. The day dragged on.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Before And After
Before Work:
Yesterday:
I read (in one day) a book called The Customer Is Always Wrong-The Retail Chronicles. It was pretty awesome. A series of essays, illustrating the back stories of how a person gets into retail, what happened to them while they were there and how they are different and intrigued because of the experience. If you read this, read that.
Today:
I was cooking lunch for me and the boy, and I set a pan of grease on fire. I tried to cover it, I got totally freaked out, so I grabbed my son and ran out the door. We called 911. There is some damage to my home. Obviously the ordeal was stressful. Then I went to work with soot on pants.
Also Today, But At Work:
I clocked in three minutes late, which as you know, I hate. Then we left early. Time seemed to go by super-fast. I had no photo orders to speak of, so it was pretty much like I was on the floor.
Yesterday:
I read (in one day) a book called The Customer Is Always Wrong-The Retail Chronicles. It was pretty awesome. A series of essays, illustrating the back stories of how a person gets into retail, what happened to them while they were there and how they are different and intrigued because of the experience. If you read this, read that.
Today:
I was cooking lunch for me and the boy, and I set a pan of grease on fire. I tried to cover it, I got totally freaked out, so I grabbed my son and ran out the door. We called 911. There is some damage to my home. Obviously the ordeal was stressful. Then I went to work with soot on pants.
Also Today, But At Work:
I clocked in three minutes late, which as you know, I hate. Then we left early. Time seemed to go by super-fast. I had no photo orders to speak of, so it was pretty much like I was on the floor.
Monday, September 23, 2013
The Game
It took me almost my entire to realize why we weren't that busy. Go Bears!
I talked to a woman who evidently is my friend. She told me her mom had her 76th birthday coming up (or had recently occured) and her mother was talking about how old she was. My friend told me she is 47, and her son is 26, but age is just a number. She asked how my son was doing, and said he is awesome, but when I said bye to him today (before I left for work) he cried as I was leaving. I told her that made me feel good, because it means he knows me and loves me, and doesn't want me to go. But its' bad for whomever I'm leaving him with. She said that is good, because only smart boys love their mother. Then she told me her son is bald, with a lot of tattoos and piercings, and he drinks and smokes too much. She told him that he has to think of his liver and kidneys because he is getting older. Apparently her son said that she was the coolest mom ever, but she needs to shush. Then she told me I was very pretty, and every time she sees a pretty girl, she wishes her son would find one, and settle down. When she had her son, he looked like a clone of his father. And his father told her, when she went to the hospital to give birth (without him?) he told her not to come home without a boy. When her son was little, he looked so much like his father, people joked that she wasn't involved. Her and her then-husband are divorced now, and her son resembles her more. While she was telling me all this, she seemed to be fighting back tears and/or a lot of emotion. She hugged me at the end of our convo.
I was suffering from sleep depravation and was feeling weird and out of it all day.
This guy comes in and buys a huge stack of newspapers, which he does about once a week. I'm pretty sure they aren't all current. Today he was buying some women's magazines too.
I asked my young co-worker if he's seen Clerks. Which he hasn't even heard of, because he is to young. But today was kind of a "I'm not even supposed to be here today!" day.
My manager doesn't know anything and I had to deal with a customer service issue on my own.
I talked to a woman who evidently is my friend. She told me her mom had her 76th birthday coming up (or had recently occured) and her mother was talking about how old she was. My friend told me she is 47, and her son is 26, but age is just a number. She asked how my son was doing, and said he is awesome, but when I said bye to him today (before I left for work) he cried as I was leaving. I told her that made me feel good, because it means he knows me and loves me, and doesn't want me to go. But its' bad for whomever I'm leaving him with. She said that is good, because only smart boys love their mother. Then she told me her son is bald, with a lot of tattoos and piercings, and he drinks and smokes too much. She told him that he has to think of his liver and kidneys because he is getting older. Apparently her son said that she was the coolest mom ever, but she needs to shush. Then she told me I was very pretty, and every time she sees a pretty girl, she wishes her son would find one, and settle down. When she had her son, he looked like a clone of his father. And his father told her, when she went to the hospital to give birth (without him?) he told her not to come home without a boy. When her son was little, he looked so much like his father, people joked that she wasn't involved. Her and her then-husband are divorced now, and her son resembles her more. While she was telling me all this, she seemed to be fighting back tears and/or a lot of emotion. She hugged me at the end of our convo.
I was suffering from sleep depravation and was feeling weird and out of it all day.
This guy comes in and buys a huge stack of newspapers, which he does about once a week. I'm pretty sure they aren't all current. Today he was buying some women's magazines too.
I asked my young co-worker if he's seen Clerks. Which he hasn't even heard of, because he is to young. But today was kind of a "I'm not even supposed to be here today!" day.
My manager doesn't know anything and I had to deal with a customer service issue on my own.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Baby!
I was busy closing and doing my thing, when two women with teeny-tiny new babies (with their weird-lookin' faces and odd-shaped heads) came in wanting a passport. I spent about an hour and a half with them. I was trying to get these babies faces, with their eyes open and both their ears showing. It was awful. The mothers weren't getting my hints about me needing to finish closing, or me having a lot of anxiety about taking their crazy pictures. The camera's batteries went out, and they still wanted me to keep going. I finally told them I couldn't do it anymore. They looked at me like I was crazy. They totally threw me off. I struggled to get all my shit done.
One of my co-workers turned out to be good to work with.
One of my co-workers turned out to be good to work with.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Day Three
We had no Cosmetics again today. Which was fine, because we managed to get out early.
My toes kept getting tingly and weird and painful. So yes, I need to make an appointment with the podiatrist.
My toes kept getting tingly and weird and painful. So yes, I need to make an appointment with the podiatrist.
No Cosmetics, Again
This woman had me print out one 4x6. I couldn't tell if she was trying to be difficult, or if she just couldn't print her own stuff. She had me print out homemade passport prints. (We offer that service for considerably more than 33 cents.) They looked like they might pass, but possibly not. Being the frugal mom I am, I suppose I should appreciate her effort.
One of my regulars came in, drunk. He told my manager that there were two kids outside soliciting for a non-school. My manager did nothing, so I went outside and told them they couldn't be on our property doing that. Then my regular started talking about how bad-ass I am, and how he doesn't like people fucking around in his neighborhood. He showed me his lighter, which was also a mini-knife. I was a little concerned about him busting that out at my register. And he also said that him and his business partner said that I look like Danielle from that t.v show, American Pickers. Right on.
My manager brought in some Polish candy, which I can get down with.
I spilled some laundry detergent in Aisle 7.
While I was facing Aisle 8, I noticed some bizarre packaging on a product called Zanfel. There were three faces, a before, middle, and after-product-use face. The first one was of the model weirdly puffy, in the middle one he was slightly less puffy. And the last one he looked relatively normal. The cream was for an outbreak of a rash from poison ivy, oak and sumac.
I saved 55% off my purchase of M&Ms and Oxyclean Stainfighters.
One of my regulars came in, drunk. He told my manager that there were two kids outside soliciting for a non-school. My manager did nothing, so I went outside and told them they couldn't be on our property doing that. Then my regular started talking about how bad-ass I am, and how he doesn't like people fucking around in his neighborhood. He showed me his lighter, which was also a mini-knife. I was a little concerned about him busting that out at my register. And he also said that him and his business partner said that I look like Danielle from that t.v show, American Pickers. Right on.
My manager brought in some Polish candy, which I can get down with.
I spilled some laundry detergent in Aisle 7.
While I was facing Aisle 8, I noticed some bizarre packaging on a product called Zanfel. There were three faces, a before, middle, and after-product-use face. The first one was of the model weirdly puffy, in the middle one he was slightly less puffy. And the last one he looked relatively normal. The cream was for an outbreak of a rash from poison ivy, oak and sumac.
I saved 55% off my purchase of M&Ms and Oxyclean Stainfighters.
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