Best customer questions

As you probably know, I work in a supermarket. While the constant stream of interfering noises is one of the most difficult things to cope with as an aspie, interacting with people can be quite frustrating, too - people acting too familiar, being unclear in their requests, or just plain rude. Today I'm going to share some of the questions customers have asked me...

- "Excuse me, do you work here?" No, I stole a uniform because I thought it was so elegant.

- (Seeing me kneeling to restock the lower shelves) "Saying your prayers, are you?"

- "I don't understand how the buy one, get one free offer works." Well, if you manage to do a handstand while holding both items on one foot, the second one is free. 

- "So you have a boyfriend? How much is he paying you?" Excuse me, did you just call me a prostitute?

- (Customer staring at the yoghurt and dessert aisle) "Where is the mozarella?!"
"Just over there, sir, in the cheese aisle."

- (Same customer who asked how much my boyfriend paid me) "So, this boyfriend of yours, is he on the dole or on income support?" ...

- (Customer showing me a box of painted Easter eggs): "Are those Easter eggs?" Nope, can't you see they're lemons?

- (Customer staring at the margarine section and letting out a huge, baffled sigh) "Which one do you use for cooking?"
"None of those, madam. I use olive oil."

-"Still working, are you?" No, I was bored so I thought I'd restock shelves just for the fun of it.

- Me (turning to customer who just pulled at my trousers waistband): "Excuse me!"
Customer: "Don't you like it?" Geez, yeah. I love getting old creeps tugging at my clothes. WTF?

- (Customer seeing me clean the glass doors) "Will you come and clean mine afterwards?"
"Sure, how much will you pay my cleaning services?"

- "Do you sell painted Easter eggs?"
"Well, around Easter we do, but it's November at the moment..."

- "If there is no price on this item, does it mean it's free?" Oh, sure. Ask the manager.

- (Fifty-something customer accompanied by his mother) "Why don't you go to the village ball? Men would only have eyes for you!" Good grief...

- "I'm pretty sure you can't help me at all, but I have been looking everywhere and I just can't find that, I need it to cook dinner and I really don't know if you sell any..." Well, if you started by telling me what it is you are looking for, I'm pretty sure I could help you all right. As it is...

Taking off the rose-tinted glasses

I guess my latest post may have puzzled some of you.

Back in October, I wrote about finding the positive in my work. That is what I have been striving to do for almost two years, because I don't want to be ungrateful for what I do have, and because looking at the positive helps me feel better.

However, the more time goes by, the less I can deny this very simple truth:

I actually hate my job.

Obviously, there is the fact that it doesn't fit my training, experience and skills at all. I have two university degrees - one in languages and translation, and the other one in teaching. Over the years, I have worked in the administrative field at first, then in the education field, mainly as a teaching assistant and holiday carer for children with special needs. Now I work in a supermarket. I have no training in sales or marketing, and no affinity for those kind of things.

In fact, the more I work in sales, the more appalled I am by the tactics used to make people buy things (I wrote a little bit about that in my post about advertising). For instance, we regularly have a "Buy one, get one free" offer on crates of cheap beer - and this, in a town where alcohol problems are rampant. I find that criminal, but, "That's just business". Not to mention the conditions in which many of the things we sell are made - think about slave-harvested shrimp or chocolate. So I am part of an industry that goes against everything I believe in.

There is also the work environment itself. I have an autistic spectrum disorder. I have sensory issues - I am extremely sensitive to noise, and my brains struggles to process more than one information at once. In my shop, there is the buzzing of fridges, neon lights, and air conditioning, the beeping of the tills, the constant background music - and I cannot shut it off. As a result, I struggle to concentrate on my work, and at the end of the day, I am mentally exhausted even though my job isn't intellectually challenging. Sensory overload, coupled with my low tolerance to stress, has brought about many a meltdown.

Another issue is having to interact with a lot of people. Don't get me wrong, I usually like people and enjoy helping them. However, having to deal with customers' requests while carrying out other tasks I need to focus on is difficult. And I really struggle with people's familiarity. Customers see me every day, and they seem to think I'm somehow close to them. Of course, this means the culturally expected greeting kiss, but it also means some customers feel it's OK to squeeze my shoulder or even, I kid you not, affectionately slap my bum (I politely asked the lady who did it every time she saw me to stop doing it. She took it well, but what made her think it was OK in the first place?).

The content of the job itself is the same week in, week out. It's not interesting, and most of the time I'm really cold, because I'm in the refrigerated foods department.

So all in all, and not matter how many fun little sides I may found to it, and no matter how much I want to be grateful to have a job in the first place, I hate it, and I struggle more and more.

I need a new job, but I don't even know where to start...

A giraffe on an ice field

Once upon a time, some poachers captured a young giraffe to sell him to a zoo. They bound him in thick ropes, so he couldn't escape without injuring himself; and put him on a boat headed to a country where they didn't have giraffes. Children would be delighted to gaze at him, no doubt.

The journey lasted for weeks and weeks, and the weather was getting colder and colder until the boat ran into a storm. In the chaos that ensued, the giraffe fell overboard just before the boat sank.

By some stroke of luck, however, he managed to swim to a very close shore.

It was very odd and unlike anything he had seen before. First of all, it had no colour - just an endless field of blinding white. Then, it was cold - as cold as the water he had been in moments before. He started to shiver as he took a few hesitant steps. Boy, was it slippery!

He had landed on an ice field.

Now our giraffe was a very clever creature. His height and long neck allowed him to reach the highest foliage to feed, and his tongue was grooved to easily strip leaves from branches.

Pity there were no trees to feed from, only ice.

His patches of brown and tan made great camouflage on the yellow, sun-beaten grasslands of Africa.

But the giraffe wasn't in a brown and tan grassland. He was on a dazzling white ice field, and he really stood out.

The giraffe had beautiful, long lashes around his eyes that were very useful to keep insects out.

Only, there were no insects on the ice field.

His wide hooves and nimble legs gave him good balance and the ability to run fast.

However, his hooves slipped on the ice and he couldn't run.

All of our giraffe's wonderful characteristics were completely useless, sometimes even a hindrance, because he wasn't in the right environment.

That giraffe, my friends, is me.

Finding the positive

As I said in my latest post, I try to look at the positive in my job. I even made a list!

1.  I have been brought up to believe in the value of work. Working, even in a seemingly menial job, is worthwhile for many reasons. By supporting myself, I am ensuring my independence. In addition, I am making myself useful.

2. My boss may be a bit rough around the edges and a very bad communicator, but I believe he is a kind man. He has had to deal with difficult things in his life and did the best he could, and I have a lot of respect for him. He is also quite understanding of my condition, even though he doesn't really get it - apparently, you can be understanding even when you don't understand it all...

3. I get on well with my colleagues. We can have interesting conversations and a good laugh - one them has started reading a science magazine for kids after seeing me doing it, which I think is pretty awesome.

4. I can practice being kind and caring to people even here, as some of our customers, especially the elderly, suffer from loneliness and are happy to have someone to talk to, even for a few minutes. It's a good challenge to try and be kind to people you don't really like, or when you're feeling tired and cranky. And I really think that putting a smile on people's faces is infinitely worthwhile. I can be a positive force in this world, just by doing this.

5. The stress involved with being responsible for consumer goods is not at intense as the stress involved with being responsible for people. As a teaching assistant, a mistake on my part could mean a child would get hurt. In my current job, we may have to throw away some bread I left in the oven for too long from time to time, but no lives are at stake.

6. Talking of which, I love baking the bread. They may be industrial pre-baked loaves and baguettes, but the wholesome smell is wonderful as they come out of the oven all golden and crispy and gorgeous.

7. I have discovered how to use the Force.The big shutter door that separates the storeroom from the store itself opens itself automatically when you walk through it. They think it's because it has sensors... but I know the truth *gestures to the shutter door theatrically and watches it raise in time with her hand*

8. I can see the most dangerous creatures from up close (no, I'm not talking about customers, although...). The first time I had to empty the bin, I was told to bring it to the "Molok". Now, I don't know about you, but in my mind, the name Molok conjures up some kind of underground demon, made of the darkest darkness, with eyes like furnaces and a mouth whose appetite can never be satisfied. Never mind that the Molok is actually a giant, half-buried garbage disposal unit outside the store - in my vivid imagination, he's still some mythical monster. Whenever I bring bins to the Molok, I am really glad he only wants to eat garbage, not me.

9. All this physical exercice is getting me fit. Lifting heavy boxes and carrying them up stepladders, jumping on and off the platform in the storeroom (I can't be bothered to use the stairs), running around trying to get everything done. And even better, I get karate-kid-style training. Cleaning the glass doors of all the fridges in my department means almost two hours of "wax-on, wax-off" arm exercice. I'll be a black belt by Christmas.

10. I can up my resistance to extreme temperature by going from the freezer room (minus 18° Celsius°) to the oven (200° Celsius). With this, and the physical training, I'll be physically ready for the zombie apocalypse.

Is my job worthwhile?

I have been working in a supermarket for almost two years now.

How did someone with two university degrees (one in languages, one in education), experience in administrative work, education, and support of young people with disabilities end up in a supermarket?

The straightforward answer is that it is better than no job at all. The more detailed answer is that finding clients as a translator is harder than I had imagined; teaching assistant positions are non-existent in Belgium; and working with people with disabilities requires a Belgian qualification that I do not have.

I remember telling an acquaintance about my current supermarket work. His immediate response was, "Not really worthwhile, then, is it?"

That's a tell-tale response. Regardless of whether I like my job or not, does working as a supermarket employee make me a lesser person? It shouldn't, yet, in people's expectations, it somehow does. Even in mine - I am always a bit embarrassed and apologetic about it. Why is this? I shouldn't have to be. People seem to consider that if someone works in a supermarket, they must be uneducated and not very smart. They never stop to consider the skills involved in managing tills, for instance - a task so complex that I've proven unable to handle it - or in managing orders of food on a big scale - another task that my manager does in my stead because he knows I don't have the skills for it. 

Even if this position doesn't fit my training and skills, at the end of the day, it means I work. I don't take advantage of the benefit system. I try and do my job to the best of my abilities, I work hard, and I endeavour to be pleasant and helpful to everyone (and trust me, being pleasant to people can be challenging when you have Asperger's - more often than not you say the wrong thing when trying to be nice and sociable, and people look at you funny). So why should my job not be considered worthwhile?

I try and look at the positive of my job, even though it's not easy.

Being ethical implies sacrifice.

Guess what. I love clothes. I love choosing something beautiful from my wardrobe, getting dressed and feeling pretty and feminine. Many of my clothes are colourful because it makes me feel cheerful, but I also own more classic, elegant items. And I do love shopping - I love the thrill of hunting for that gorgeous item, finding it, trying it on and looking like myself, yet different and new because my garment is new!

Lately, though, I have become aware of how our clothes are mostly made in developing countries by people whose salaries don't even come close to enabling them to support themselves. This in turn led me to question the way I shop, and I recently wrote a blog about ethical clothing. I decided that I would strive to buy my clothes from second-hand shops or jumble sales whenever possible.

Countless times, I have glanced at fashion shop windows at something pretty, then thought, "no".

Until yesterday.

Nicholas and I went groceries shopping and we passed a clothes shop on the way. A dress caught my eye: colourful, pretty, sporting cats (I love cats!!!). As if inexorably drawn towards it, I walked into the shop, found the dress on a rail... wanting to try it on.

Then I checked the label. I had to.

"Made in China".

In China, the minimum wage only actually covers 46% of a person's living wage (the wage needed to support oneself and afford things like food, accommodation, healthcare, etc). And if you think that's bad, the minimal wage in Bangladesh only covers 11% of the living wage. That's right.

I really, really wanted that dress. It was so me. But ethically, I just couldn't buy it. So I put the dress down and got ready to leave. Then I had a thought.

I walked up to a shop assistant and politely enquired about the shop's policy on working conditions for those who made the clothes. She looked at me like I was an alien (well, maybe I am).

And today, I tracked down the website of the brand who made that dress and emailed them the same question. Because if enough of us start doing this, things might change. As customers, we don't need to be victims. We have power. Let us try and use it.

That being said, I am still tempted to buy it. Will I be consistent with my own view, or give in to my selfish desire? The battle rages within. 

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

Update:

I never received a reply from the brand in question. However, I found another of their dresses, similar in style (cats too, but a different colour scheme) on a second-hand website.

(Picture from http://www.fgtb.be/web/guest/news-fr/-/article/2457832/ , no copyright infringement intended)

You don't have to shop at Primark

You may have heard about the cry-for-help label a customer found in a £10 Primark dress,

The label may or may not be genuine, but it still draws our attention to a horrible reality: as Western consumers, an awful lot of the items we purchase are produced by people who are being exploited. And by exploited, I don't mean they won't get a pay raise this year or will get less paid vacation. I mean they work over 12 hours a day for a salary that barely covers they most basic needs (that is, if they are paid at all), in appalling conditions such as little hygiene, poor lighting resulting in eyesight damage, cramped rooms, or exposure to harmful chemicals.

Now I know what some people might say: "I shop in Primark because I can't afford any alternative", like this lady writing for The Independent.

Actually, if you are genuinely concerned about ethical clothing but are worried about cost, you don't have to shop at Primark. Here are the reasons why.

1. Disposable fashion.

I don't know about you, but I have often found Primark clothing to be poor quality. After a few washes, the fabric seems to get thinner, the seams are askew, the item shrinks lengthwise but gets wider. This is because Primark clothes are not designed to last. With new styles being introduced several times a year, you get the buzz of finding a new trendy outfit, only to see it outdated in a matter of months. Soon you crave another new fashion item and the old one can be disposed of because it never was made to last anyway. This is exactly what fashion chain stores want you to do - actually, this is what the whole consumerist system wants you to do. They want you to keep buying stuff from them - even if you don't need it. In fact, they are willing to go to any length to make you buy stuff that you don't need.

If you go for style and quality instead, your clothes will last longer, and you won't look like every other fashionista out there: you will look like you, with your very own style. And if you buy quality that lasts, it will in fact turn out cheaper, because you won't need to keep buying clothes to replace those that are worn out too soon.

2. If you just love clothes (trust me, I do!), there actually are cheap alternatives to Primark.

Think second-hand: charity shops or jumble sales. Here you can find good quality, stylish clothes for a fraction of their original price. You may need to do a bit of searching, but it's as fun as a treasure hunt, and you're likely to find unique items. I once found a really cool leather jacket for €25 (£20). And if online shopping is your thing, Oxfam has an online shop as well. If you're hooked on the buzz of getting something new, why not hold regular clothes swap parties with your friends? Granted, items you will buy may still have been made by exploited workers, but you won't be paying into the system that keeps them exploited.

Don't be a fashion victim - be a trendsetter.

My £20 leather jacket!