Retail Hell by Freeman Hall Page A

do it anyway,” said Marsha.
    Jules nodded, adding, “They want us selling what’s on the floor. Not special ordering. And even though we do transfers, it saves the company money if you sell what’s in front of you.”
    “Why didn’t you guys just show me the drawer?” I said, pulling out the Coach book and opening it to a full-page photo of an east-west single-pocket tote in purple signature jacquard.
    “None of it would have made sense without a basic knowledge of handbags,” said Jules.
    Cammie grinned. “Dude, you didn’t even know what a fucking satchel was.”
    “And now you know what a double-pocket zip-top hobo is!” added Marsha, “You are no longer a newbie! You’re an official Hand-bag Connoisseur!”
    Handbag Connoisseur.
    Not exactly something I’d ever thought I’d become.
    But what choice did I have at that point? It was a good thing I had Angels in the Handbag Jungle. Otherwise the $3,000 glazed anaconda-skin multipocket satchel named Brutus would have eaten me alive.
    Instead I sold it to a woman after I told her it was this year’s It Bag on the Paris runways.



Falling Down Mount Fancy
    One afternoon, I happened to arrive in the parking structure at the same time as Marsha, who was my fellow closer for that day. We walked together, talking about everything from her cats to my screenwriting. Our lighthearted chitchat ended when we reached the brown door where Mount Fancy waited silently, ominously.
    “Sweet mother of God, here we go,” sighed Marsha.
    I entered the security code, waited for the click, and we both entered leg-lifting hell.
    Then our jaws hit the floor.
    I didn’t hold back. “What the fuck?”
    The steel carpeted mountain had been transformed into a birthday party.
    Apparently it was The Big Fancy’s fifty-second year in operation, and Suzy Davis-Satan had spared no expense in reminding us as we climbed. The entryway was awash in ugly yellow and purple balloons with green and white crepe-paper streamers strung everywhere. Suzy’s welcome sign had been replaced with an oversized cheesy party store Happy Birthday card. A huge yellow banner covered the Important People sign: Happy 52nd Birthday, Big Fancy! We Rock! The walls were painted a putrid pea green color, the very same color Linda Blair released all over the carpet in the first
Exorcist
, with party-themed yellow and purple signs: What can you celebrate this week? Make it a Big Birthday with Big Sales! Have a Cake Walk with Client Capture! The Headless Mannequins were swathed in cheap Happy Birthday wrapping paper and wore pointed yellow party hats where their heads should have been. And at the top of the mountain stood a giant fake cake with fake lavender frosting and a
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on top.
    As we climbed, I was dumbfounded by the amount of decorating work involved. “Seems like they went to a lot of trouble to do all of this. They could have spent the money installing an elevator.”
    Marsha let out a cackle as we trudged up the third flight of stairs. “Hon, that will never happen. This company is too cheap to spend money on something to make our lives easier. It’s been this way ever since the store opened.”
    “I just don’t understand it. How could they have designed an employee entrance full of stairs? Shouldn’t this be against the law? Why haven’t they been reported to OSHA?”
    “Ha! OSHA! That’ll be the day. Did you know that nearly all The Big Fancy Stores have stairs in the employee entrances?”
    “You’re shitting me.”
    “Nope,” said Marsha gripping the handrail. “This store has the most. Almost all Big Fancies have them. It’s because of Mr. Lou.”
    I figured she was talking about one of The Big Fancy’s executives. For some ridiculous reason they like to be called Mr. with their first name after it. Kinda creepy if you ask me.
    “Who is Mr. Lou?”
    “Hon, don’t you remember the training video?”
    “I think I slept through most of it.”
    “Freeman, he’s the founder of The