I've Been Banished to the Basement, Where the Smell Gets Worse Every Day
Should’ve had the AirPods in.
I have been demoted to the basement sale. I don’t think I deserved this. There are a number of other sales associates on the main level who seem to barely have a pulse. Either that or they’re all AirPodded out when they hit the sales floor, which, let’s be honest, I should be doing, too. I should be hustling. Grinding. Developing multiple streams of income. That’s just the game now, for all of us. The people you clocked in for this morning don’t give a fuck about you, so make sure you’ve got something else cookin’. Crypto, NFTs, whatever.
A year ago you wouldn’t be caught dead with the AirPods in while you’re out on the floor. Now you wouldn’t be caught dead without them. Leverage has never mattered more. Let the boss know you’ve got a few irons in the fire, because make no mistake, he’s keeping his options open, too. You’re not unfocused. You’re taking initiative. You see where this whole clown show is headed, and it’s nowhere good, so you’ve got to be able to dip in and out of your personal office space at any given moment. You’re not a sucker like that guy who’s still providing fully present customer service in the shoe department. In fact, do we even still want that guy up here? Take that bullshit to the basement, buddy. Have fun down there.
I feel very fortunate to have a bad sense of smell, because a number of customers have informed me that the basement smells truly awful. I nod and go, “Yeah, just with the pandemic and everything…” and keep stacking pairs of zip-tied shoes that are 50 percent off. Sometimes someone will waddle up to me in a pair of zip-tied shoes and ask if I can cut the zip tie, so they can get a better sense of whether it’s a pair of shoes they could walk around in, as that’s how they’d be wearing them day-to-day, that is, not zip-tied together. Most of the time I say no and blame the inconvenience on my boss, who recently said, “Everyone, we are no longer cutting zip ties, we’re just not doing it.” Which is not a rule I typically abide by. I will cut zip ties for a customer if I get the sense they want the shoes, like, really bad, or if I appreciate their overall vibe. But other than that, I will probably say no and blame it on the higher-ups.
I can’t say for sure what got me banished to this place. It could’ve been that cringey dance move I did in front of Malorie and the boss. Malorie I don’t mind, we’re kind of in an ongoing goofy dance-off anyway, although I guess that was probably my first mistake. But man, right in front of David? Not good. Still couldn’t tell you what I was going for with that move. Somebody up front was blasting the new Drake, Malorie started egging me on from across the room, David came around the corner, and it just kind of…moved through my body. My butt definitely did something new. Not a good new. Should’ve remained at the stage before new. Untried. But I went ahead and tried it, so I’m thinking that might be why I’m down here. And look, I don’t hold that against David. He’s running a business. He can’t have that kind of energy running rampant in the most visible part of the store. Trust me, I felt it as it coursed through my veins and ass. It’s an energy that should be tucked away below ground, with the snorkeling gear.
This is why you stay Airpodded. I probably wouldn’t have heard Malorie shouting at me to “break it down” if I’d been busy hammering out deals over the Pods, or even just jamming out to my own tunes while I smiled and nodded at customers. Instead I was giving a nice family of four a full-blown presentation of our backpack selection, like a loser. Now it looks like the only deals in my future are discount New Balances from 2015. The kind you have to waddle around in before buying. That’s right, sir. Can’t cut ‘em. We’re just not doing it anymore.
On the flip side, the basement is quiet and allows time for me to reflect, mostly on how I’m going to try to escape the basement. The more time I spend down here, the more I start to smell what they’re all talking about. But most importantly, I’ve been reflecting on my priorities. Have I been putting too much effort into being present? Does being present have anywhere near the value it did pre-pandemic? Remember how popular “being present” was? Is that gonna be a whole thing again or no?
I’m not trying to make this all out to be more than it really is. These are just questions that naturally arise when you’re the basement sale guy. I’m also not going to pretend like I set out to be the “being present” guy over the last couple years for any meaningful reason. It’s just where the process of elimination led me. There are a lot of talented people in New York City, and the “being present” guy is a good guy to be when you don’t have a whole lot of discernible skills. People like the “being present” guy. He doesn’t ask for much and is generally pleasant to be around. But then one day the “being present” guy gets a little too present, drops it a little too low and is kindly asked to take that energy downstairs. There’s an old man rifling through wetsuits while he talks to himself. He’s here every Tuesday and will probably try to strip down in the middle of the room before trying one on. Can you deal with that, please?
I will deal with that, and then I’ll cut a few zip ties. I’ll do both of those things in a state of near-perfect presence. Customer service at its finest. But then my mind will wander, and I’ll start thinking about how long I should wait after the dance move incident before I ask David for a raise. I need some new AirPods. And once I get them, I will never not have them in. Times have changed. Cut your own zip ties, lady. I’ve got deals to make.