Wednesday, August 4, 2004

Coworkers: Part 93 - Ex Employee Discount

     I busted both J D and Joe. Giving discounts. Their employee discount.
     "Guys, don't do this shit."
     "It was my cousin, man."
     "I don't care if it was the Pope. If I can spot these discounts on morning paperwork, I guarantee they red flag some program somewhere."
     "Ahhhh," Joe rolled his eyes and looked annoyed. "Worth-Dogg -- "
     "No! Their policy specifies immediate family. That doesn't mean cousins," I looked at Joe. "And it don't mean da entourage, or Da Killa costars," I focused on J.
     The Rap Pack gazed about absently. Felt like I was talking to cats.
     "Listen, I give discounts to people. Regulars like Patsy, Jimmy, Hotmom. Or anyone who ever worked here. Ex employee discounts. I give them the Sale price. That doesn't light up a beacon. But don't overdo that. Don't sale price every girl who giggles and jiggles at you."
     Lecturing was not my way. People fucked up in life, I usually let them. I liked J D and Joe, however, and I didn't want them fired. I had no doubt Wherehouse tracked transactions. Their computer programs were sophisticated, a bit invasive, too.
     Still, I gave discounts, which you knew. Regulars who remained loyal customers. Ex-colleagues, and I fudged that label.
     Lisa U shopped sporadically. Ours was probably the one place where she was recognized, and was left alone. I never asked about the road, recording delays, Interscope. We talked movies. She bought laserdiscs and DVD's. I sale priced the lot. If Randy was with her, I sale priced him, too. Randy worked at Crystal Clear and he'd helped the store plenty.

     Madison visited frequently. Less people recognized him. The lot of the drummer, I suspect. Pat still referred to him as Matt. The rest of the females avoided him and bided their time. Madison rarely bought anything. He usually wanted to hang posters of the band. I agreed, no matter how much kicking I would receive later.
     Being Pimpadelic, the flyers were completely sexist and salacious.
     All crotch and cleavage.


    Madison climbed the short ladder, stapled a few up high near Rock and Rap, gave me a handful more for the fanbase. The girls waited. We shared small talk. I never asked about the Pimpsters or their legal problems. Theirs had been a hard fall since the heady days and wasted opportunity of Southern Devils. Never asked about his rationale for leaving the Toadsters, either.


    Madison departed, drove away, the girls swung into action. Ripped down every single poster and tore them to shreds.
     Stacey was the most aggressive, but if she wasn't around, Pat, Mandy or Molly were all quick and nimble. Especially when it came to Pimpadelic, a group they disdained, and ad slicks they despised.
     If Madison bought anything, I gave him the sale price. I know, but what the hey. He wasn't family, but he'd been associated with Todd, Lisa, and Charles in the beginning. And Madison was always agreeable. I must confess, I liked him.
     Jordo ... however ... what a dick.
     When Berry was scheduled to close we tried very hard to transfer Kerrie. Everyone in the store knew her, and wanted her. Kerrie would be a perfect fit. She went to Borders, however, and took Trina's old post there. Community relations thing.
     Jordo, on the other hand, nobody wanted. Not us, not Hulen, not Hurst, not Arlington. We'd all dealt with him over the phone, he'd been completely useless. His old co-workers related horror stories. Even label reps complained, saying he phoned relentlessly for promos, concert tickets, posters, freebies. Anything and everything. Which he sold.
     Berry closed. No one picked Jordo up. He did find employment. He visited us.
     "I'm here to tell all of you. You work for shit. I earn so much more than you now."
     "Great, Jordo," The Boss simply walked off.
     "I can't believe how little you make, and how much I'm now making."
     "Jordo -- "
     "I gotta company car, perks -- "
     "Company car? You mean that yellow pickup you deliver auto parts in?"
     "A decent wage. A living wage."
     Fucker. This jerk never worked a day at our store.
     "I've worked here over a decade, Jordo. Most of my coworkers moved on to greener pastures. You're the only individual who ever came in the store bragging. Gloating. Makes you unique."
     I'd seen cats cover disagreeable residue, I wanted to do likewise.
     "My employee discount still good here?"
     "See you, Jordo."
     No one gave him that discount. Sale or employee discount.
     Like I said, we couldn't overdo it.


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