So, as I wrote before, I took what was a terrifying plunge for me and got a job as a seasonal employee at the local Chapters, thinking, "With my vast book knowledge, how could I be anything less than spectacular as a bookseller?" Turns out, that's not quite what the job is about at Canada's biggest book chain.
I will happily say that everyone at the store was lovely to me. The managers were efficient but easygoing, the clientele was friendly and completely understanding whenever I had to say "I'm new and don't have the answer, but I'll be happy to find out for you", and the staff were amazingly accommodating towards the temporary influx of new faces -- there are so many retired teachers on staff, and if every one of them had been as patient and happy to teach their classes as they were to teach me, then those were a whole lot of lucky students.
When I first started, I spent three whole shifts shadowing an experienced staff member -- first on the floor, then in kids, finally on cash -- and I immediately knew that I enjoyed working out on the floor -- helping customers find books -- the best. About a week after starting, there was a ramping-up-for-the-holidays event for the the entire staff (to familiarise us all with the new products), and at the end we were told to report to our own manager to receive a card and a gift. I had no idea who "my own manager" would have been, so I asked Donna (the woman who called to hire me) if she was my manager, but she said, "No, Rhonda's your manager, but I heard that you did such a good job on cash that I'm trying to steal you!" That surprised me for sure: I was flattered that someone had said that I had done well on my cash shift, but darnit, I wanted to be on the floor. I needn't have worried though: I was indeed on the floor for most of my shifts.
The relaxed atmosphere of my first few shifts in November soon turned into the mayhem of December. Suddenly, I was working 7 or 8 hours a day, a couple of weeks it was six days straight, and at home, everyone else was having to step up and make a dinner now and then. I'd be run off my feet helping people track down books, answering the phone and finding books to put on hold for customers, jumping on a cash register when the lines would get too long, answering questions and finding answers and I loved it. I was working the evening of Dave's company Christmas party (no sweat off my nose), I worked until 5 on Christmas Eve (forcing Dave to do the cleaning for our annual party; again, happy for me), I worked Boxing Day (and had to arrive late to a family Christmas potluck; no worries), and in every case I was delighted to report to people who were surprised to hear that I was working that I was having the time of my life; feeling competent and valuable. I was ecstatic to pay for Dave's 50th birthday party by myself, and between Dave's Christmas presents and Mallory's prom dress, that's about all the money I made; but it was never really about the money. (You can track how much I worked by how few books I was able to read and review in December.)
Through it all, oddly, my own book knowledge never really came into play: customers generally knew what they were looking for, and those who were looking for recommendations were asking about genres outside my ken (primarily young adult or historical romance or whatnot). Frustratingly, my memory often failed me the few times I could have made an astute recommendation -- one young fellow wanted a book for his dad who loves all things space, and I had totally forgotten about The Martian and Seveneves (two decent books I had just read months earlier). On the other hand, I went from having no sweet clue where anything could be found (Chapters, seriously, has far too many sections and subsections scattered not always logically around a very large floorspace) to being able to guide customers right to where they needed to be. Competent is exactly how I felt.
And then, after the buzz and hum and sacrifice of my own Christmas holidays, I was called into the office one shift and given my letter of termination. Rhonda, my manager, said she felt terrible about having to do this with the temporary staff every year and I totally let her off the hook, confirming that I had understood the nature of the role before I had started. She asked if I would be interested in a permanent role if one became available, and I said yes, and she said, "Good, because you're top of the list of people I would want to hire. Unfortunately, this is a slow time for retail and I wouldn't expect a position to open up until March..." And again, I said I understood and I thanked her for the opportunity. I left that meeting feeling deflated about losing the job, but also proud to be "top of the list". Competent is exactly how I felt.
I was feeling a little blue as I arrived for my last shift, and as it was indeed a slow time for retail, there weren't very many staff on; certainly none of my favourites that I would have liked to say goodbye to. As I was on my lunch, a young woman -- another temporary worker who had struck me as a bit whiney and lazy -- came into the staff room and said, "Well, this is my last day. I guess it didn't impress them that I had needed so many days booked off over Christmas -- I ended up needing to go home for the holidays and things were unsettled at my other job -- I must have been a complete pain in the ass for them because they said that it's 'too slow' to keep me on right now, but there'll probably be something for me in March." Suddenly, I felt way less competent. Was I just given the same parting speech they give everybody? Probably. As they told us on our orientation that they often hire a couple of people permanently from the temporary staff every year, did they maybe already hire some people; the true "top of the list"? I don't even want to think about that.
Either way, working at Chapters was a real confidence booster. Over the weeks that I was there, a couple of coworkers had asked me about my work experience, and they were surprised that I hadn't worked in over twenty years, and more surprised that I had never worked retail. I now have something to put on a resume if I decide to apply for another job, and that would make that less awkward. But here's the thing: I enjoyed everything about working at Chapters, but when I think of the details, I can't imagine enjoying myself as much working in another retail situation (I wouldn't want to sell shoes for instance); I can't imagine there's joy in helping customers find items in some other big box store (Walmart or Costco? No thanks); and as much as I did grow to enjoy my interactions at cash, I wouldn't want to be a cashier in a grocery store. It may make me a primadonna, but if I don't actually need to work for the money, I can certainly wait til March to see if a role does open up for me. (And catch up on my reading in the meantime.)
Failing that, on my last shift Shawn (yet another manager) said that it had been a pleasure having me around and that they need seasonal staff every year -- I shouldn't hesitate to apply again. That just may have been the Chapters end for me after all.
