RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,391
(so...now you know!!) B&N, END
Another thing that someone just
contacted me about, and which I'd
completely forgotten about, is the
fact that the sexually fraught girl
I'd written about, (got the name
now, yes, but there's no real need
here to repeat it), her best friend,
from Scotch Plains also, was a
porno star of some budding fame
and reputation. I guess that explains
a lot. Getting 800 bucks a 'shot',
so to speak, must be a really
heartwarming feeling, at least
to the wallet. All should aspire
to such stars? As Virgil put it,
'sic itur ad astra' - roughly meaning,
'as one journeys to the stars.'
-
There was this one guy who was
assigned to me for work who was
just a miserable crud. His name was
Tim, as I recall, and he was a Linden
local, some sort of tree-cutter guy.
Not the sort of tree-cutter who, in a
try to masquerade as something better
than what he is, goes around calling
himself an 'arborist', with a tree-cutter
company he then calls 'Sav-A-Tree'
or something equally stupid (it just
means 'cut it' in any language), this
guy Tim was merely a chain-saw
with but a half-brain and a constant
cigarette-in-mouth. He was a local
bum, in and out of jail often enough,
who slept in the rear of his truck, had
three or four chain-saws there with him,
and who was part of a tree-cutting crew
that would cut anything. Period. The
guy was a Neanderthal, and I couldn't
stand him. Fortunately, because he kept
missing time, with jail and other reasons,
he was gone in three weeks. The last
straw, finally, was when they Clark cops
impounded his truck, for being parked
illegally somewhere with him asleep in
the back. That's the equivalent of locking
someone out of his motel room in the
jungle-district. One of the problems with
B&N was how little their communications
line was routed into any sense of the practical.
No one ever asked ME about these new hires;
whether they fit well, or even whether I or we
wanted them around. How this fellow ever
even came to think of hiring on with a
bookstore, was beyond me. I found
out later, he 'knew' someone.
-
A lot of things about the place, I didn't like.
I hated the traveling circus of District Managers
who'd keep coming around. They'd get hired
from all sorts of other merchandising companies,
knowing nothing about books, but all wise-assed
about it anyway. One East Brunswick doofus
we got, named Howard, came direct from his
last job at Staples, in the same capacity.
He came in one day, on his 'Introductory'
tour, and we each had to sit down with
him, one on one, in the cafe, as Managers,
and hear his spiel. I didn't much like the
guy, right off - he drove a mini-van, with
his kids' photos taped to the rear-side window.
Jewish talismans and religious stuff hung
from his rear-view mirror too. I asked him,
pushing back a little, what being from 'Staples'
had to do with working for B&N. He blew it
off, and just shrugged and said, Oh, it's all
the same, just merchandising. Book people
are weird though, I admit.' Well wasn't that
a fine howdy-do? At that point I lost all faith
in that asshole. I date the expansion of our
Manga section to his arrival month. They
were always too sly, all these 'Manager' types.
Nitpicking about every single thing their
eyes hit upon. The carpeting. The 'Power
Aisle' (who the hell dreamed that one up?)
It was the center entry-aisle past which
most everyone entering the store had to
walk past, and was stacked and crowded
with the newest and latest titles, merchandise,
books and crap. Movie tie-ins, and any
other God-damned holiday or Father's or
Mother's Day on the month's far horizon.
It had to be doted on and constantly
freshened and maintained lest this
meandering lurch find fault and write
it up as 'inadequately attended.' Like
his damned Staples brain was. No one
really gave two shits about the 'power
aisle', especially not shoppers, who usually
came in already with some idea about
what they wanted, and weren't that
obstinately and dumb-assed stupid to
take power-aisle suggestions for Dad or
Mom about organizing their workshops
or how to cook roasted garbanzo beans.
Yeah, it was that stupid.
-
At first, you try to care, and then, only
later, you realize how useless any concerns
are. Most of the time anyway we'd have
some advance notice of his arrival, so of
course lots of things got faked out. It was
easy. Then he began coming around, towards
the end, with 'efficiency' guys, who would
stand around watching the action, in the
Receiving Room specifically, and telling
us where and how we were 'handling' each
book too much, how, from box to shelving
cart, in prescribed steps and motions, the
book need only be handled three times,
equaling maybe 21 seconds. Anything past
that was wasted time and energy. Such a
huge raft of complete bullshit by some
dickless fancy-suit, that I often just wanted
to punch his gay-ass Jew face. I never did
that, and I always regretted the lack. These
efficiency guys were always what I just
called them, so I ain't about to debate
that. If they weren't that, they were
often enough upper-level Barnes & Noble
corporate Eyetalians, the kind who try
and join the Mafia for the money and the
good times. 'High Society' in their view.
-
Well, that was all about it for me. When
those geeks began coming around, I lost all
interest in any furtherance of the job. I found
a way to get past the 'lock' of the computer
so that, instead of getting only B&N stuff,
I could access a text page and spend a lot
of time, instead, writing, and doing my own
stuff. No Internet or anything like that (those
were the old days of My Space. I guess that
pre-dated facebook?).... And then one Saturday,
on an afternoon visit to Princeton, across from
the University, I saw that the old Woolworth's
was closed up and being transformed into a
new site for the University Bookstore. It was
6 or 8 months off, from completion, but I
immediately upon arriving home, made the
contact from the info on the new store's
window, and arranged a few interviews for
maybe being hired when the place opened.
It was 21 miles from Metuchen, up and down
Route One, and was also served perfectly
from Metuchen by the rail lines that ran
through. I had interviews, did a 'meet and
greet' social thing, and a few meetings, and
was hired on for when it was opened. I gave
notice, with a long lead-time, and I began
to care about B&N even less and less than
I had. Their keen and new strictures were
stifling, and they were sure killing me.
So...know you know!
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