brightest and most industrious was belittling to him. He resented the fact that I, a mere high school student and part-time employee, found the work simple, boring and easy to do.
So he took it out on me. He blamed me for anything that went wrong, he constantly let me know that the girl who'd had the job before I did had been far better at it, and if ever a kid puked or pissed his pants or spilled his Slurpee, he made sure that I, and not a member of the maintenance crew, cleaned it up.
I grew to hate that son of a bitch.
But I liked getting a paycheck, and I liked the feeling of independence I got from not spending all my evenings hiding in my room listening to my parents fight. All in all, it wasn't such a bad deal, and if Cain could just transfer to another store or even another department, all would be right with the world.
Robert and I usually spent our breaks together sitting on the low brick wall behind the store. It kept us from having to sit in the break room with the lifersold women who'd been working there since the Stone Age and who took their jobs way too seriously. One Wednesday evening, Toys was deadthere hadn't been a sale all night, hadn't even been a browser since six, when I started my shiftso I decided to take an early break. I walked over to Music, where a frail old man in an ugly plaid jacket was arguing with Robert. "That's not what I wanted, and you know that's not what I wanted!"
Robert sighed as though he'd repeated his defense a thousand times. "I told you, you wouldn't like it," he said. "I warned you."
"That's not the music I wanted! I told you I wanted the music from Cosmos !"
"Yes. And you said the theme from Cosmos was called 'Heaven and Hell.' I told you we had the Black Sabbath album Heaven and Hell but that it probably wasn't what you were looking for and I was sure you wouldn't like it. You bought it anyway, and I said that if it wasn't the right music, you could bring it back. You did bring it back, and I gave you a refund. I don't know what else I can do."
"I want the music from Cosmos !"
"Well, I'm afraid we don't have it," Robert told him. "Maybe you should try a record store."
"I am very dissatisfied with the service I've received! Very dissatisfied!"
Robert did not respond.
"Your supervisor will be getting a letter from me!" the old man promised. "I can assure you of that!"
A letter.
I was like a cartoon character with a lightbulb going on over his head. I stood there as Robert finished dealing with the man; then the two of us walked out the service entrance to the loading dock. We talked about an upcoming U2 concert we had tickets for, but my mind was on the exciting idea that I could write a letter to Gemco complaining about Ellis Cain. I thought about the quick results I'd gotten from my letter to Buck's and all of my subsequent missives to fast-food joints and amusement parks.
There was nothing retail businesses feared more than dissatisfied customers.
I went home that night and wrote a letter to the store's manager, another to the president of the company at the corporate headquarters in Delaware. I pretended to be an irate father who'd been trying to buy a new Hot Wheels set but was given the runaround by the incompetent Ellis Cain.
I was off the next weekI'd worked too much over the Fourth of July holiday weekend, covering for the full-timers who were on vacationbut when I returned, Cain was gone. I don't know what went on behind the scenes, whether he was given a lecture and quit in a huff, or whether he'd accumulated other complaints over the years and this was the last straw and Gemco fired him. All I knew was that I suddenly had a new supervisor and Cain was no longer in the picture.
I went home that night feeling elated, powerful.
The feeling lasted until I walked through the kitchen door.
"What are you smiling at?" my dad growled. He was sitting at the kitchen table, and if I hadn't known better, I would have sworn he was drunk. His face was
So he took it out on me. He blamed me for anything that went wrong, he constantly let me know that the girl who'd had the job before I did had been far better at it, and if ever a kid puked or pissed his pants or spilled his Slurpee, he made sure that I, and not a member of the maintenance crew, cleaned it up.
I grew to hate that son of a bitch.
But I liked getting a paycheck, and I liked the feeling of independence I got from not spending all my evenings hiding in my room listening to my parents fight. All in all, it wasn't such a bad deal, and if Cain could just transfer to another store or even another department, all would be right with the world.
Robert and I usually spent our breaks together sitting on the low brick wall behind the store. It kept us from having to sit in the break room with the lifersold women who'd been working there since the Stone Age and who took their jobs way too seriously. One Wednesday evening, Toys was deadthere hadn't been a sale all night, hadn't even been a browser since six, when I started my shiftso I decided to take an early break. I walked over to Music, where a frail old man in an ugly plaid jacket was arguing with Robert. "That's not what I wanted, and you know that's not what I wanted!"
Robert sighed as though he'd repeated his defense a thousand times. "I told you, you wouldn't like it," he said. "I warned you."
"That's not the music I wanted! I told you I wanted the music from Cosmos !"
"Yes. And you said the theme from Cosmos was called 'Heaven and Hell.' I told you we had the Black Sabbath album Heaven and Hell but that it probably wasn't what you were looking for and I was sure you wouldn't like it. You bought it anyway, and I said that if it wasn't the right music, you could bring it back. You did bring it back, and I gave you a refund. I don't know what else I can do."
"I want the music from Cosmos !"
"Well, I'm afraid we don't have it," Robert told him. "Maybe you should try a record store."
"I am very dissatisfied with the service I've received! Very dissatisfied!"
Robert did not respond.
"Your supervisor will be getting a letter from me!" the old man promised. "I can assure you of that!"
A letter.
I was like a cartoon character with a lightbulb going on over his head. I stood there as Robert finished dealing with the man; then the two of us walked out the service entrance to the loading dock. We talked about an upcoming U2 concert we had tickets for, but my mind was on the exciting idea that I could write a letter to Gemco complaining about Ellis Cain. I thought about the quick results I'd gotten from my letter to Buck's and all of my subsequent missives to fast-food joints and amusement parks.
There was nothing retail businesses feared more than dissatisfied customers.
I went home that night and wrote a letter to the store's manager, another to the president of the company at the corporate headquarters in Delaware. I pretended to be an irate father who'd been trying to buy a new Hot Wheels set but was given the runaround by the incompetent Ellis Cain.
I was off the next weekI'd worked too much over the Fourth of July holiday weekend, covering for the full-timers who were on vacationbut when I returned, Cain was gone. I don't know what went on behind the scenes, whether he was given a lecture and quit in a huff, or whether he'd accumulated other complaints over the years and this was the last straw and Gemco fired him. All I knew was that I suddenly had a new supervisor and Cain was no longer in the picture.
I went home that night feeling elated, powerful.
The feeling lasted until I walked through the kitchen door.
"What are you smiling at?" my dad growled. He was sitting at the kitchen table, and if I hadn't known better, I would have sworn he was drunk. His face was
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