Well in case you hadn’t heard, Earl came and went without destroying South Jersey. On a related note, I learned that drinking 17 gallons of milk over a holiday weekend is a pretty good way to develop acute lactose intolerance.
You win this time, milk.
Since today is Labor Day, I thought I would share some labor-type stories with everyone. I’m sure every job has its share of crazy people that wander in from whatever secure facility they’ve escaped from to make your day just that much more interesting. But since I don’t work at your job I’ll just tell stories from my job, if you don’t mind. If you want to tell your own stories get your own blog. Jeez.
So I work at the Shirt Shop. We make shirts. See how that works? What we do is right there in the name of the store. If you want to get technical about it we do digital printing, embroidery and screen printing. We don’t just do t-shirts either, sometimes we do sweatshirts, or golf shirts, or even sweatpants. It’s all clothes though. Clothes are kind of our thing.
Although it seems like being named THE SHIRT SHOP would tip people off to what services you provide as a business, you would be surprised at the amount of people who don’t seem to get it.
One morning I was up at the front counter, drinking my morning coffee and ready to start another amazingly exciting day in the apparel industry, when an early morning customer walks through the door. He browses around the store for a few minutes, picks up a couple of t-shirts to look at them, searches through the rack of sweatshirts, and then walks up to the counter. He looks me right in the eye and asks:
“Do you make cakes here?”
Pictured: Not a T-Shirt
I took a moment to look around the store. Trying to figure out which section of clothing on display had made him think that we sell cakes. Confounded, I said:
“Cakes?”
“Yeah, like custom birthday cakes. Do you do them here?”
“No. Sorry. We do shirts, not cakes.”
“Oh. Well never mind.”
Confused and defeated, the man wandered out of the store and out into the world. I like to think he’s out there still, searching for the combination t-shirt printer and bakery that he knows only from his dreams. One day he will find that store, and probably not order anything because he left his wallet at home.
The best example of this complete lack of understanding happened just the other day. Over the phone. It went down something like this:
“Good afternoon, this is the Shirt Shop, how can I help you?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a question for you, I’m hoping you can help me.”
This, if you are unfamiliar with answering phones at work, is not a good start to a conversation.
“Well let me know what you’re looking for, and I’ll tell you how we can help.”
“Ok, well I’ve got this couch…”
Oh, awesome, we’ve got a live one here folks.
Pictured: Also not a T-Shirt
“… and I’ve got this cover – thing – for it. And I need some help.”
“I’m sorry sir, but we really don’t do anything with couches.”
“No no, it’s all sewn together and everything, I just need help to put it on the couch.”
“Sir, we don’t work with couches. We’re the Shirt Shop. We print shirts.”
Pictured: Not a Couch
Now he starts to get a little aggravated that the conversation isn’t going his way.
“Well on your ad it said you do embroidery and stuff. I figured you could help.”
“I’m sorry sir, but we don’t do anything like that. We do screen printing and embroidery on t-shirts.”
“Well that’s disappointing.”
I’ll bet it is.
“So do you have any leads for me?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Well since you can’t help, do you have any leads for me on who I can call?”
“You might want to try a furniture store, or someone that does upholstery.”
Apparently my suggestion was completely foreign to our mystery caller.
“A furniture store? Really?”
“That’s what I would do. Have a great day sir!”
Now I can picture exactly what was going on right before this call was made. Our mystery caller is sitting in what’s left of his living room. It has taken him four days, four days of sweat and blood and tears, but it’s finally done. The couch sits in the middle of the room, stripped of its fabric covering, naked in the thin strips of light coming from the windows he has taped over. Next to this block of foam and springs is the cover. He as sewn it together from parts of all the other furniture in the room, most of his clothes, and the drapes. It is absolutely perfect. There is only one problem. He can’t get it on. He weeps quietly in frustration, he knows he needs help; he can’t do this alone anymore. In the background the radio goes to commercial, and then he hears it. The Shirt Shop. Embroidery. It must be fate. He reaches for the phone, his hand trembling with excitement. They have to be able to help, they just have to.
"Now where did I put that phone?"
This made me laugh out loud because phone calls and questions like this are definitely not foreign to me. When I worked in PR at UPS, the questions I got were unbelievable! Sometimes you just have to wonder what planet some people are from. haha Thanks for the laugh!