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Today Kicked My Ass
Nov. 10th, 2004 08:06 pmWork has been especially hectic because one of our own is taking an extended vacation. Since the bosses are tightwads no one's been hired in her place, and so we're severely understaffed for the entire month. No big deal, I guess, except when it is. Cue: today.
I arrive a bit early and hit the ground running: break down boxes, move books to the duplicate room, go to the bank to pick up change. By the time that's done, it's time to open. Turn on all the lights, unlock the fire door, and set up the bargain table outside the store-front. Once *that's* done, priced books need to go across the aisle to the table for Don to approve, and the few books that have jackets that need to be repaired or mylared need to be done. In addition, I need to put duplicates in backstock and straighten shelves a little bit...which I can't do because Charles keeps calling me up to the front of the store to man the desk while he takes care of people selling books to us.
The morning wears on in this fashion; Don comes at 11:30 a.m., he and Charles leave me to man the desk. Normally, our coworker would be here to field customer questions and other things while I took care of the phone and sales, but since I'm the only guy in the store I have to show everyone where everything is, make sure people who want to sell books know there's no one here, man the phones and blah blah blah. We had a fellow bookseller come in and buy a whole lot of stuff, so a good line formed that only got worked down by the time Don arrived by 12:30.
Now I should be able to get work done, right? Wrong. For three straight hours, there's a steady stream of people selling us books, which Don has to check and I have to box in time to clear the aisle for the next seller. AND I'm running the desk, telling customers where everything is, manning the phone and directing the line of potential sellers to where they can drop the egg crates and moving boxes of crappy books that they're hoping will sell for big bucks. I'm not sure *why* but people seem to think they step into the Antiques Roadshow when they're here. "Yes, this crayon-marked Dr. Seuss book is actually 1 of a very limited edition published circa 1823. It's worth $87,000. Let's write you a check."
The crowd finally dies down aroudn 3:30, when some fellow who's been hanging around the photography section hauls up with $300 worth of books. (The average price of a photography book for us is about $15, so you can imagine how many there were.) I *finally* manage to pry myself away from the desk so I can work on the vicious stack of books that have been steadily piling up. I look at my stack to see...five Gardening books. This is the WORST. THING. EVER.
There is absolutely *no* room in Gardening, at all. I can't move the section, I can't cull books, there are already three office boxes of Gardening books waiting to make the shelves when we get some space. I have to consolidate an entire *aisle* of books *just* to put five Gardening books up on the shelf. I stayed for two hours past my shift and the books still aren't up, and I still have two high stacks of books to shelve.
Tomorrow, I have to put up the Gardening books, straighten all the sections around it, finish shelving the rest of my books, check and process Internet orders, put up more books for auction on eBay, shelve some of my missing coworker's books, and man the desk for half the day. It may not be, say, landscaping or *shudder* government work, but being a shelf-monkey at a used bookshop isn't easy.
In other news, tonight's episode of "Lost" kicked all sorts of ass. Sawyer is one of the biggest poopyheads on television right now (for some reason, he reminds me of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
foxen_alopex), though the kiss between him and Kate reminded me of Tube. Mmmf.
Far, far too bouncy after the kind of day I've had, I'm going to crash hard after all the coffee wears off. For now, though, din-- *zzzz*.
I arrive a bit early and hit the ground running: break down boxes, move books to the duplicate room, go to the bank to pick up change. By the time that's done, it's time to open. Turn on all the lights, unlock the fire door, and set up the bargain table outside the store-front. Once *that's* done, priced books need to go across the aisle to the table for Don to approve, and the few books that have jackets that need to be repaired or mylared need to be done. In addition, I need to put duplicates in backstock and straighten shelves a little bit...which I can't do because Charles keeps calling me up to the front of the store to man the desk while he takes care of people selling books to us.
The morning wears on in this fashion; Don comes at 11:30 a.m., he and Charles leave me to man the desk. Normally, our coworker would be here to field customer questions and other things while I took care of the phone and sales, but since I'm the only guy in the store I have to show everyone where everything is, make sure people who want to sell books know there's no one here, man the phones and blah blah blah. We had a fellow bookseller come in and buy a whole lot of stuff, so a good line formed that only got worked down by the time Don arrived by 12:30.
Now I should be able to get work done, right? Wrong. For three straight hours, there's a steady stream of people selling us books, which Don has to check and I have to box in time to clear the aisle for the next seller. AND I'm running the desk, telling customers where everything is, manning the phone and directing the line of potential sellers to where they can drop the egg crates and moving boxes of crappy books that they're hoping will sell for big bucks. I'm not sure *why* but people seem to think they step into the Antiques Roadshow when they're here. "Yes, this crayon-marked Dr. Seuss book is actually 1 of a very limited edition published circa 1823. It's worth $87,000. Let's write you a check."
The crowd finally dies down aroudn 3:30, when some fellow who's been hanging around the photography section hauls up with $300 worth of books. (The average price of a photography book for us is about $15, so you can imagine how many there were.) I *finally* manage to pry myself away from the desk so I can work on the vicious stack of books that have been steadily piling up. I look at my stack to see...five Gardening books. This is the WORST. THING. EVER.
There is absolutely *no* room in Gardening, at all. I can't move the section, I can't cull books, there are already three office boxes of Gardening books waiting to make the shelves when we get some space. I have to consolidate an entire *aisle* of books *just* to put five Gardening books up on the shelf. I stayed for two hours past my shift and the books still aren't up, and I still have two high stacks of books to shelve.
Tomorrow, I have to put up the Gardening books, straighten all the sections around it, finish shelving the rest of my books, check and process Internet orders, put up more books for auction on eBay, shelve some of my missing coworker's books, and man the desk for half the day. It may not be, say, landscaping or *shudder* government work, but being a shelf-monkey at a used bookshop isn't easy.
In other news, tonight's episode of "Lost" kicked all sorts of ass. Sawyer is one of the biggest poopyheads on television right now (for some reason, he reminds me of
foxen_alopex), though the kiss between him and Kate reminded me of Tube. Mmmf.Far, far too bouncy after the kind of day I've had, I'm going to crash hard after all the coffee wears off. For now, though, din-- *zzzz*.
