So there is this thing in the retail world known as inventory. At most jobs this is a task that is dreaded day. Today was such a day. Alot of normal people get sick on Inventory day, their family members randomly die, they get in wrecks, etc. (for the most part they invent ways not to come.) However, at rue21 we sign up to work it.
Yesterday, when of course, I was told that I would be working inventory in one of those "you don't have to, but it would really help us out even though you are NOT scheduled" tones I began thinking of the excuses I could use to get out of working.
"I have a test" (which I do, and yet I am blogging)
"I was sick this weekend and don't want strain myself. (true again)
"My parent's won't let me stay out that late." (Man, I'll miss this one next year)
and the last "It's illegal, I'm a minor......"(Oh wait!)
So needless to say by the end of the night, I was actually excited for it because we were really prepared for this year's inventory. I know it's weird, but I was. See the thing is at Rue, their like my "athletic" team, another family, We all just have a blast, and alot of us would be working it. So i just knew that it would be crazy. So I drank my quad-no whip-venti-whitechocolatemocha this morning and went in to work at eleven AM. I got to leave and take care of things, brought the pizza back, and the good times started.
That was until we started counting.....
I was given the task of all the rounders. No big deal right. WRONG! I cannot count in twos past fifty. Period. I just can't do it. To make matters worse, you have the "regis counters" who have to come in and scan everything, with their little machines beeping everytime they scan each item. So I'm trying to talk and do this. Not happening. So it's quiet (minus the beeping) EXCEPT me counting outloud. Then I lose count. this is how it goes....
1,2,4,6....till 50
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,60
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 70.....oh wait was that 60 or 70. This goes on for quiet sometime as I count EACH rounder, 5 different times. At one point, for ONE rounder, I got 121, then 149, then 141, then another girl counted and got 151. A MANAGER then counted and got 151. So basically...I SUCK.
I then move on. Proceed to count the next rounder, get a final total and forget the number by the time I get to the paper to write it down. Literally 5 seconds. (in my excuse my manager had taken my pen)
I get to the next rounder. Start counting and the shoplifter alarm starts randomly going off. I just started laughing (props to Adam). Finally I get a system down for counting, and it's time for me to leave. Story of MY LIFE!
Moral of the story,
I can't count.
Mommy did my taxes.
I'm good in life.
______________________________
MORE happytimes...
Pull throughs...parking spots where you can pull straight through.
Driving through parking lots after everyone has left and you have full rein to go through them horizontally!!!!
Sudden snow bursts!!!
Yesterday, when of course, I was told that I would be working inventory in one of those "you don't have to, but it would really help us out even though you are NOT scheduled" tones I began thinking of the excuses I could use to get out of working.
"I have a test" (which I do, and yet I am blogging)
"I was sick this weekend and don't want strain myself. (true again)
"My parent's won't let me stay out that late." (Man, I'll miss this one next year)
and the last "It's illegal, I'm a minor......"(Oh wait!)
So needless to say by the end of the night, I was actually excited for it because we were really prepared for this year's inventory. I know it's weird, but I was. See the thing is at Rue, their like my "athletic" team, another family, We all just have a blast, and alot of us would be working it. So i just knew that it would be crazy. So I drank my quad-no whip-venti-whitechocolatemocha this morning and went in to work at eleven AM. I got to leave and take care of things, brought the pizza back, and the good times started.
That was until we started counting.....
I was given the task of all the rounders. No big deal right. WRONG! I cannot count in twos past fifty. Period. I just can't do it. To make matters worse, you have the "regis counters" who have to come in and scan everything, with their little machines beeping everytime they scan each item. So I'm trying to talk and do this. Not happening. So it's quiet (minus the beeping) EXCEPT me counting outloud. Then I lose count. this is how it goes....
1,2,4,6....till 50
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,60
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 70.....oh wait was that 60 or 70. This goes on for quiet sometime as I count EACH rounder, 5 different times. At one point, for ONE rounder, I got 121, then 149, then 141, then another girl counted and got 151. A MANAGER then counted and got 151. So basically...I SUCK.
I then move on. Proceed to count the next rounder, get a final total and forget the number by the time I get to the paper to write it down. Literally 5 seconds. (in my excuse my manager had taken my pen)
I get to the next rounder. Start counting and the shoplifter alarm starts randomly going off. I just started laughing (props to Adam). Finally I get a system down for counting, and it's time for me to leave. Story of MY LIFE!
Moral of the story,
I can't count.
Mommy did my taxes.
I'm good in life.
______________________________
MORE happytimes...
Pull throughs...parking spots where you can pull straight through.
Driving through parking lots after everyone has left and you have full rein to go through them horizontally!!!!
Sudden snow bursts!!!
2 comments:
oh for goodness sakes...learn to back out of a parking space chels!
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