The Red Knight Rises (Red Vest Man Part II)

The Mechanical Fiend continued to question me. I tell him that we are out of units, we were wiped out and aren't expecting anymore for at least a week, if ever.

Customer: When did you last have them?

Me: About four days ago sir, we've be out since

He ponders this for a moment, his face contorts with strained thought.

Customer: Are there any other stores in the area?

I list of the number of stores in the area which seem more than what would be an appropriate number given he population. He asks for the list again, I tell him again. We do this dance one more time before I make a power move, a move that will guarantee leverage over him and the balance of power in this confrontation will tip in my favor and I will get out of here on time, my vest begins to burn, my body can only withstand it touching me for so long.

I look up our inventory on Lowe's sleek 1980's database. Lowe's will never update anything, the owner of Lowe's, whoever he is would rather be encased in cement at a random store than allot money towards updates. With this irrefutable proof I present with him my findings: that no other store has one, any A/C unit.

Customer: Call that one store

I have to leave my desk in the department to retrieve the number. I return and he is not happy.

Customer: Where did you go, Red Vest Man?

Me: I had to get the number

Customer: You had to get the number again?

I refuse to argue the fact that it was the first and only time I went to get the number. He points at one of the stores on the screen. I sigh and call. I speak to an associate at the other store and inquire to whether they have an A/C unit or not. He laughs at me and hangs up. I feign an extended conversation with the dial tone and then hang up.

Me: They are out, sir

Customer:...What are the other stores in the area?

My brain has imploded and I see red. Is he screwing with me? Is he trying to catch me up in a lie and reveal the truth that we have hidden, in the back, hundreds of A/C units like the warehouse in Indiana Jones? Finally, Ron, the guy coming in to relieve me arrives. The customer asks him and Ron viciously dampers the man's resolve with far off projected delivery dates and a no hope for the world speech. I unzip my vest right in front of him as he asks me to look up which store's have an A/C unit. I throw the vest over my shoulder. It's the endgame and he knows it,

Me: You have a GREAT DAY sir

He balls his fist and tucks it under his chin without replying and just nods.

What adventure await Red Vest Man? Only time will tell. What fiendish foes await? Will that customer service girl ever say yes? Red Vest Man will return!

P.S.: That customer service girl did say yes and three and a half years later we're engaged. We found love in a hopeless place.

The Red Vest Man Part I

A Long Time Ago in a Lowe's Far, Far Away...

 

This next story is a throw back that I feel needs sharing before the end of the semester and is a shameless attempt to garner pity points. I once worked for Lowes right when I got out of the Navy, instead of taking some time off and go on a vacation, I sought out employment merely two weeks after being discharged. I worked for a period of time at another Lowe's in a desperate part of my area where the normal rules of human behavior and dignity do not apply.

 

 

That Summer after my discharge and a few months of work at Lowe's a terrible and insufferable heat wave struck our region without warning. I know what you're thinking: Well duh, of course it's hot in the Summer. You then, must not have lived where I did. A tragic heat wave wiped out our supply of window A/C units and portable A/C's. regardless, throngs of hopefuls still scavenge up and down the narrow aisle in hopes of finding a random A/C tucked into a corner of a shelf. These are the people who didn't think that a Summer could possibly be hot but lo and behold, they are somehow wrong, their prediction for a cold Summer proved incorrect and they find themselves overheated and frustrated when staring at the barren shelves.

 

I took great delight in crushing them, "Nope, we're all out!" I would announce when questioned. My normal scowl transforms into a devilish grin when I see someone straggle into the A/C aisle. I will follow like a predator following a sickly water buffalo left by the herd. Then, when they turn to ask me, I pounce with my friendly customer service which delivers horrid and depressing news. Their heads angle downwards and they shuffle out of the aisle, back to their sweltering homes.
 

 

Suddenly, as I patrolled past the empty shelves an electric hum caught my ear. I could not discern its origin but it grew louder and louder. Where was it coming from? I peeked around the aisles and still the hum grew louder. I backed out of the aisle and the hum had become a roar behind me and I spun around and I am face to face with a portly man in one of our mobility scooters that are meant for handicapped people to utilize but I suspect he isn't handicapped, just fat and lazy, having just waddled into the store and plopped into one of the scooters, I can imagine the electric motor struggling and crying to press on with that incredible weight bearing down on it. The timing couldn't be any worse, he strikes at my weakest moment: fifteen moments before my shift ends. It is within this time that my powers are drained, my motivation shot, and my patience thin.

 

Customer: Hey Red Vest Man, you got any portable A/C's?

 

I do have a name tag on my vest, it is not obstructed in any way and the letters are clear and bold and say DAN. But I guess he can't or won't see this and has de-humanized me, I have a pet name and I don't even know him. I stare at him for a moment and that dramatic pause is a good opportunity to leave this on a cliffhanger for the sake of post brevity.

 

On the next thrilling post of Red Vest Man: Will Red Vest Man overcome this new and dangerous foe? Will he ever win the love of that one girl who works at the Customer Service Desk? Tune in next time!


Nowhere to Hide

Behind the Commercial Sales desk is a row of offices. One is our "office," the next one belongs to the delivery guys, and the end one is for Jen, who's job is a mystery. I believe she does something for credit accounts, but this is all speculation, all any of us can do is speculate and hypothesize her function in the Lowe's system. Anyways, I come into work one day and find that our office and the delivery office no longer have walls. The monsters came in and hacked off the walls, now there is absolutely no place to put any of our stuff, the material samples, paperwork, etc. More importantly, there is now no reprieve from the constant onslaught of the customer hordes, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

I don't so much hide in the "office" as I do just go in there for a minute to gather myself up, take a sip of my drink, or take a few bites of my contraband sub. That's all I want to do and now they have taken that from me. Jen's mystery lair remains unscathed by the tides of change. Her office remains intact and unused. When I came in and saw this sad scene and being someone who fears change, I asked the one ASM what was going on.

ASM: This was something we were supposed to do a year ago, it's company-wide

ME: Why isn't Jen's office cut in half like the rest?

ASM: There's a lot of customer credit information in there

ME: So, a few extra feet of wall and no door makes all the difference and deters theft?

ASM: (Does not reply, merely shrugs)

There were no doors to any of the offices, just an open entryway. If Jen's office contains such valuable treasures and information, then why isn't it up front where the cash cage and manager offices are? Would it not make sense to at the very least put a door on her office with a lock? Foul play is afoot and the air reeks with it. Our shield from the invading hordes is taken away, and in addition, half our storage space is gone and now carts line the front of the Commercial Sales desk with material samples, information packets, and other stuff. Also, there's nowhere for me to post funny pictures and memes. That is a crime against humanity in my opinion. So now, I must readjust my strategy and stay mobile, never in one place for more than a few minutes if I hope to survive.

Is it illegal?

Lowe's gives employees who work a full shift are given an hour break which is unpaid. During this hour, you can do as you please. One can sit in on the banal and juvenile ramblings of 40 year old employees in the break room. If that's not how you want to spend your hour, then you can go to you car, slump as low as possible while you drag your cigarette and pray the Store Manager doesn't see you and destroy you on the spot. If the fear of losing your life or dignity of hiding a cigarette as if you're sneaking one from your parents is also not your scene, then there's still plenty of options. I never take a full hour. A quick trip to Get'Go or across the plaza where I can smoke freely is all I need to recharge and I'm back in business. There is a sub shop in the same plaza as Lowe's. Their subs are delicious and they beckon to me and tempt me as Odysseus is to the sirens. The siren subs call me during my shift and sometimes I cave and march across the lot and indulge myself. I don't like to it in there and eat, nor do I want to eat in the break room so whatever I brought or ought to eat that day, I take it back down to the lumber department.

Behind the commercial sales desk is our "office" which can translate to "empty space to store random shit." I'll eat a bit, go out and survey the department, then return and eat some more. I once sold $4,200 worth of building materials with a burger stuffed in my face, the contractor didn't care. It's in these sad moments that customers take pity on me and see me as a fellow member of the human race, not some subservient sub-human. They'll stop by, see me eating, and reassure me that everything's okay and I can finish up. Such compassion. The one day, towards the end of the night I emerged from the office, sub in hand, and am caught red-handed by the Manager on Duty (MOD).

MOD: What are you doing there?

ME: Eating my sub

MOD: You know you can't be back there eating

ME: Is it illegal or something?

MOD:...No, but it's frowned upon

ME: But it's really good, it has cherry-wood smoked bacon on it

MOD: I'm not going to bust you. But don't do it again

By this time I had emerged from behind the desk, sub in hand. As this conversation went on, I continued to eat my sub, right in front of him, he didn't know what to do. It was irritating that I hadn't seen him the whole night, didn't even know he was there and all of a sudden he decides to "manage." The only thing he "managed" was to ruin my appetite. He sure was gracious to give me a break. But what really irked me was what happened next.

MOD: Is it just you or are other people doing it? Do we have to make a general sweep?

ME: No, it's just me

That was a total lie, we eat back there all the time. Once, a co-worker brought in a pizza and we stuffed our greasy faces with slice after slice like it was our last meal. Despite this, I wasn't going to snitch on my fellow associates and what was with the term "general sweep"? It sounds like a military term like they'd come in and clear a village of hostiles. Needless to say, I ate my sub all the while and savored every bite even more with the knowledge that it was frowned upon.

P.S.
I know what you're thinking: why does he have the Sandwich Police Meme if he's talking about a sub? Well, when someone creates a law enforcement meme that deals with a sub, I'd love to use it. Until then, I must make due.

It's 9:55pm and I want to redo my basement

During the week and on Saturdays, Lowe's is open till the unforgivable time of 10pm. I often wonder why people will come to the store at such a late hour to make big and important purchases. It is also suspicious to come in so late and in your cart you have a roll of plastic wrap, a saw, a hatchet, and plenty of bleach.

"Will that be all for you today?"

"Well, until you start selling industrial strength bags with zippers, then yes."

If you want to commit a violent and deadly crime, your big box home improvement stores offer a one stop shop to fulfill your homicidal needs. On a side note, Lowe's sells lye. Tired of your pesky neighbors asking "what's that smell?" and "where's your husband?" Lowe's has the answers.

To get back on topic, one of the largest and most prominent irks are the customers who come into the store when we are near closing time. The parking lot is empty, except for employee cars that are exiled to the back of the lot, the cash registers are being emptied, and the lights are dimmed. These are blatant indicators that the store is shutting down for the evening and your attempts to pick out the perfect granite top for your kitchen can wait till tomorrow. People will dive through the cracked open door as if they were escaping a horde of zombies and their only salvation is on the other side of the slowly closing gate.

The other day I was scheduled to close and I have a very rigid closing schedule. I flat stack all the lumber to make it pretty for tomorrow's first customer to admire for three seconds before they decide that it's too magnificent of a job to allow anyone else the opportunity to enjoy it and promptly destroy my beautification efforts. I sweep the aisles, and mop the concrete aisle. These are all exercises in futility. In addition, the precious pallets of concrete that sit just outside the lumber entrance need brought in with a forklift. Company policy states that before the store opens and after it closes are the only times you can operate power equipment without a spotter. So, to complete that portion of my routine, I must bide my time and wait for 10pm to strike.

At 9:55pm, two men entered my department to buy a considerable amount of drywall, particle board, and everything else you can imagine would be needed to completely remodel a basement. I have to help these two grown adults lift objects onto carts. They are in their thirties I assumed, and sketchy looking I knew. The load up their supplies for a long night and make my night that much longer as well. I pace like a caged lion, eyeing its prey. My sights are set on the forklift which I will leap onto once they leave. But they don't leave. Everything's going wrong and I'm losing control. My routine is thrown into disarray because the one guy is basically illiterate.

He doesn't read his receipt, he examines it. Last I checked, the receipt does not print out in Sumerian cuneiform. Nor does it print out in Latin or Hieroglyphics. He asks question after question, "What does this mean?" Meanwhile, his friend goes outside to load up their stuff.

At this point it's 10:15, I wanted to get out of work by 10:30. Finally, the cashier manages to get rid of this guy and I open the gate to drive the forklift out. Outside, in the middle is a solitary bag of concrete that could not have just fallen off of a pallet. It all made sense in that moment. The 'illiterate' one was tying us up while his friend loaded who knows how many bags of concrete into their vehicle. By now they were high-fiving each other on a job well as they turned onto the highway and there was nothing I could do. The make things worse, the forklift ran out of fuel just as I lurched it outside, just to add insult to injury. I nearly blow myself up putting another tank of propane on the forklift. I was soundly beaten and out-smarted by these two con men. I hope their basement collapses on them at 3am.

In Memoriam

I recently went on vacation. A group of us blazed our way to Universal Studio's Halloween Horror Nights and from there went on a 7 day cruise through the Caribbean . It was a a much needed reprieve from the monotony of school, work, and no social life which resulted. I returned late Sunday, weary and overly tan. I could very well have taken Monday off from work but I needed the money, not the first time I did something foolish for the sake of a quick buck. I did the deal with the Devil and came to work Monday. This time I was just even more so tired but still very tan. Despite my body at the brink of exhaustion, I strode into work largely reinvigorated and ready to take the bull by the horns. However, a dark cloud lingered over the Lumber Department. The aisles were cold and abandoned, the overall state of the department was one of neglect and dilapidation. I found an associate who works at the Commercial Sales Desk, where I once worked as their beast of burden before my transfer three feet over to the Lumber Department. After a pleasant exchange and inquiry into my cruise, he dropped the bomb. It fell upon my as suddenly  and as violently as a nuclear detonation.

Jason: You sure missed a lot, they fired Pat

My Lowe's Life came to an abrupt end. I felt the high I was riding come crashing down with a fury. Pat  is (was) one of the associates I worked with in the department. He is a veteran like myself and he and I also have the same twisted and warped sense of humor that allows us to make it day by day in the world we unfortunately inhabit. We are good friends and it was horrible to hear of his passing from this (Lowe's) Life. His loss was far too great for me to handle, not only was he a good friend but an actually knowledgable and hard working associate. Him and I share the same opinions of the customers we encounter and deal with.

Me: What happened?

Jason: They fired him and Kim a few days ago. They didn't have all the gates up when they were operating the reach truck and Brian saw them and wrote them up.

It's a company policy that when a piece of power equipment is in use, the aisle it is in needs blocked off and a spotter has to be present to ensure customers don't wander blindly into the aisle. The aisle blockers which are basically yellow accordions on wheels with a sign reading, "DO NOT ENTER." This phrase is powerless to the inept and uncaring. Customers will move the sign and enter despite all indications that the aisle is closed. I've chased many a customer out of blocked off aisle. Brian, one of the blue-vested assistant managers saw their incomplete barriers and wrote them up. The two were promptly fired despite the stone-walled intervention and inquiry of our manager, Justin. Justin informed me he feels there is more to the story, a seedy underbelly that higher powers will stop at nothing to keep from the light of truth. In addition to this, Tim, our most competent employee experienced a life altering epiphany while I was gone.

Tim is an advent biker and software programmer, an unlikely combination. He worked part-time and was perhaps our most valuable employee. He was efficient, skilled, and knowledgable. His riding partner dropped dead while he was riding his bike in a park. Tim saw this loss and interpreted it as "Life is too short for me to be spending the rest of my days telling people where the concrete aisle is." Coupled with the unjust firing of a comrade, he made a life choice and quit. In the span of a week, we lost three people. Every loss stings as our manpower is now down to thread bare. I was angry and confused, yet it was all already done, nothing else could come of it. So, I went to where we have an "office" which is just a space where junk is stored behind the Commercial Sales desk and pinned up a paper, which reads:

In Memoriam

2013

Tarrell

Patrick

Kimberly

Timothy

"Tis better to have loved and lost; than never to have loved at all"

-Tennyson

Tarrell was another casualty inflicted a few months ago, a lively and sly associate who was very energetic and fun. He too fell prey to the machinations of management. 

How Does a Snap-On Gutter Work?

Figure A.

Does this picture confuse you? That's okay, it's just a diagram that over complicates a simple home improvement task. The other day as I walked the beat in the lumber department, I receive a page overhead saying a customer is in need of assistance with the gutters, which are part of my department. Dread swept over me like the Winter's chill. What could they need? I have no clue about any of that stuff! No training was given to me nor do I have practical experience with gutters. Despite me fear, I pressed on and found the lost soul in question. I braced myself for the worst as I greeted him and asked what he needed.

Customer: How do these snap-on gutters work?

Me:...They snap on, sir

Customer: Can you show me?

At this point my brain has imploded from the stupidity and I ask him to repeat himself.

Customer: Can you show me how these work?

Naturally, I say okay and walk over the a gutter and easily snap it on. There is a pause and the customer leans forward to examine my magic. Even a millisecond of contemplation is too long for something so simple. He eyes me and says thank you. An hour passes and when I go to Customer Service to gather the returns that are for my department, a single and lonely snap-on gutter sat in the cart. I suppose the customer didn't write down what I did or it was just beyond his comprehension. Somewhere, right now, a man is standing in his yard and crying as leaves clog up his gutters. He'll collapse to his knees in his grass and curse the Heavens and plead for a reprieve and an answer on how to sto this horrible plague upon his house.