Today I opened up my Gmail, and Dennis Hunt was offering me a job as a secret shopper. I hate how they email you with normal names like they’re offering you this great opportunity, when you’re really being hired to be a hypercritical asshole. I’m sure someone is reading this saying, “Well this is to only ensure quality of service and if the person is doing their job meh meh meh meh meh.” Screw you and you suck. That’s one of those weird occupations that gives you a very small amount of power, and it invariably goes to the person’s head. Only the douchey and desperate would even want such a job.
My first gig after I dismantled my babysitting empire, was working at a pharmacy counter as a clerk and a Pharmacy Technician. I thought I was the bees knees, partially because I was working for people who had charted out a career path and followed it, rather than settling into the first job they could find because life for them went left. The people who surround you have a profound impact on your life, and I considered myself fortunate to have black professional women to influence me as a young’n, but I digress. The actual “store” part, sucked.
We could almost always tell who the mystery shopper was, especially when we were busy, because they would not pick up prescriptions. Why would you stand in a busy pharmacy line, if you didn’t need a pharmacist? Yeah…tell me that. For the most part, my reviews were above par, but every once in a while, I’d hear, “We had a mystery shopper visit, and they did not feel that you gave them enough attention while the were on the floor.” When I had a line full of customers and a stack of prescriptions to fill in the back? Am I your mother? Get on up outta here.
The mystery shopper’s job is to snitch. Nothing else. They come in their, slink around wait for something to go left, and rat. If that wasn’t enough, on top of the mystery shopper, we had the loss prevention guy. I think his name was Steve…or maybe it was Rod…it was one of those names frequented by douches. He would visit the store, slink around, make sideways bigoted comments and then tell the manager that we were stealing. Of course, his actual words were, “This store seems to have a problem with shrinkage.” “Shrinkage” is a fancy word for employee theft. Unfortunately, the pharmacy was housed near Crackville, and I don’t think there is an actual method to determine whether or not a customer or an employee has stolen merchandise from the store. He would give all these alarmist reports to the store manager, who kept his ever vigilant eye on us. Since everyone was a suspect, they brought in this new assistant manager, who happened to be the most bigoted fuck of them all, who bilked the company out of $35,000.00 USD in cash and merchandise. That’s some shrinkage for that ass.
So Dennis Hunt, I would like to invite you, your mama, and your offspring to eat a plate of rusty dicks, because I don’t want your punk ass “opportunity.”