- MKTheVintageBloke
- Master of Time
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Musings of a Salesman: Take Seventeen
I'm posting this at both BDWF and WL, so that folks who aren't on both forums can have a read.
It's been a long, long lockdown. During that time, I had to drive to work for two hours a day, just to send the parcels to the fucking webshop. The place is now controlled by the regional manager, but fortunately, that's only until the new manager gets to adjust to how things work here.
Since the lockdown made the trade in the duty-free zone at Warsaw Chopin Airport ground to a halt, the company has closed their shop there. The deputy manager of the now-closed shop has been transferred to ours. At the airport, the reality was totally different. They had no warranty claims, pre-sale servicing, no parcels to send - just pure, undiluted retail. Along with her, another transfer to our shop is a seasoned saleswoman, who could already be retired - but doesn't want to.
This came as a cold shower to the Saleslady. She's been trying to become the manager herself - sadly, she tried to do that by ratting to the regional manager, to the point of it resembling a verbal anilingus. Me and another colleague have grown to hate her over the last few months, for all the times she ratted on us and badmouthed us to the regional manager.
The day the two new ladies arrived, she tried to show them that she's in charge here, even though she's pretty fucking far from that. She'd patronize me, the other lady, and the two new ones alike. I decided that while talking behind one's back is in poor form, this time it's a necessary means of waging guerilla warfare against the Saleslady. I made an unofficial introduction - when I walked with the two new ladies to show them where to take out the trash at our shopping centre, I've given them a heads-up on what to expect, and what is the Saleslady like. I didn't even have to start that, they asked for it. The Saleslady gave them a number of good reasons to hate her in less than a day. There are people, who sometimes get the bad idea of pissing against the wind. Except ladies, obviously. If the Saleslady would have been a chap, I'd say she just pissed against a hurricane, because the new manager has known the regional for 8 years and is on a first name basis with her...
In the meantime, the routine with nightmare customers has returned. And while we don't have Epos any longer, we still suffer from once having Epos. Either Epos is truly shit, or the goddamn heathen Chinee that once more came to us to send a watch on warranty has been treating his really badly. The watch had condensation under the crystal, so either it leaked, or he exposed it to absolutely vicious shifts in temperature. He came with his Polish translator, who happened to look like an aging gay geezer. What an annoying nation. Either they eat undercooked bats, or they treat watches badly.
On top of that, I had a streak of bad luck. Sure, I had some nice sales, but I can't quite get over not having sold a ladies' Tissot Goldrun in 18K gold...because the customer's credit card limit ran out. Holy shit. However, he said he'll be back with cash tomorrow, so I hope that'll be the case.
I had scores of arseholes who try to judge the prices of gold jewelry by the market price of pure gold. Now that's ridiculous. It's not fucking gold ingots, it's jewelry. Often it comes from manufacturers contracted by the retail chain. This means that the manufacturer needs to pay their costs, including paying the craftsmen. The retail chain needs to profit as well, there's also VAT. Net price of pure gold doesn't fucking apply, it's only a part of the final price.
However, I did have returning customers. There was a guy, to whom before corona I've sold a Tissot Gentleman Powermatic 80, and adjusted the bracelet...while I had a 38-degree fever (38 degrees Celsius, for those who think that 38 degrees is fucking freezing). There was another, who bought scores of watches at our shop, and for whom I have now ordered two Tissot skeleton watches (Chemin des Tourelles and a T-Complication Squelette).
I also had a chat with an almost-WIS guy, whom I couldn't talk into buying a Longines HydroConquest, but who tried to talk me into selling him my 1952 Longines. Which I obviously didn't. It's a bit of a pity that I didn't hear out his offer, I could then know how willing to buy it someone would be. Although that's a pity in terms of not having satisfied my curiosity. That Longines is one of my favourites and I wouldn't even consider parting with it.
And...so it goes. Hopefully the next few days will be better, because with our current schedule and the amount of things to do, I am totally exhausted. Yesterday, Mr. Furball just curled up on my bed. I just fell onto the bed in my work ourfit, sans tie and jacket, to scratch Furball behind the ear. Mr. Furball rested against my head, and I fell asleep with a purring, tabby heater by my head. And so I slept for over 10 hours.
Mr. Bloke out.
It's been a long, long lockdown. During that time, I had to drive to work for two hours a day, just to send the parcels to the fucking webshop. The place is now controlled by the regional manager, but fortunately, that's only until the new manager gets to adjust to how things work here.
Since the lockdown made the trade in the duty-free zone at Warsaw Chopin Airport ground to a halt, the company has closed their shop there. The deputy manager of the now-closed shop has been transferred to ours. At the airport, the reality was totally different. They had no warranty claims, pre-sale servicing, no parcels to send - just pure, undiluted retail. Along with her, another transfer to our shop is a seasoned saleswoman, who could already be retired - but doesn't want to.
This came as a cold shower to the Saleslady. She's been trying to become the manager herself - sadly, she tried to do that by ratting to the regional manager, to the point of it resembling a verbal anilingus. Me and another colleague have grown to hate her over the last few months, for all the times she ratted on us and badmouthed us to the regional manager.
The day the two new ladies arrived, she tried to show them that she's in charge here, even though she's pretty fucking far from that. She'd patronize me, the other lady, and the two new ones alike. I decided that while talking behind one's back is in poor form, this time it's a necessary means of waging guerilla warfare against the Saleslady. I made an unofficial introduction - when I walked with the two new ladies to show them where to take out the trash at our shopping centre, I've given them a heads-up on what to expect, and what is the Saleslady like. I didn't even have to start that, they asked for it. The Saleslady gave them a number of good reasons to hate her in less than a day. There are people, who sometimes get the bad idea of pissing against the wind. Except ladies, obviously. If the Saleslady would have been a chap, I'd say she just pissed against a hurricane, because the new manager has known the regional for 8 years and is on a first name basis with her...
In the meantime, the routine with nightmare customers has returned. And while we don't have Epos any longer, we still suffer from once having Epos. Either Epos is truly shit, or the goddamn heathen Chinee that once more came to us to send a watch on warranty has been treating his really badly. The watch had condensation under the crystal, so either it leaked, or he exposed it to absolutely vicious shifts in temperature. He came with his Polish translator, who happened to look like an aging gay geezer. What an annoying nation. Either they eat undercooked bats, or they treat watches badly.
On top of that, I had a streak of bad luck. Sure, I had some nice sales, but I can't quite get over not having sold a ladies' Tissot Goldrun in 18K gold...because the customer's credit card limit ran out. Holy shit. However, he said he'll be back with cash tomorrow, so I hope that'll be the case.
I had scores of arseholes who try to judge the prices of gold jewelry by the market price of pure gold. Now that's ridiculous. It's not fucking gold ingots, it's jewelry. Often it comes from manufacturers contracted by the retail chain. This means that the manufacturer needs to pay their costs, including paying the craftsmen. The retail chain needs to profit as well, there's also VAT. Net price of pure gold doesn't fucking apply, it's only a part of the final price.
However, I did have returning customers. There was a guy, to whom before corona I've sold a Tissot Gentleman Powermatic 80, and adjusted the bracelet...while I had a 38-degree fever (38 degrees Celsius, for those who think that 38 degrees is fucking freezing). There was another, who bought scores of watches at our shop, and for whom I have now ordered two Tissot skeleton watches (Chemin des Tourelles and a T-Complication Squelette).
I also had a chat with an almost-WIS guy, whom I couldn't talk into buying a Longines HydroConquest, but who tried to talk me into selling him my 1952 Longines. Which I obviously didn't. It's a bit of a pity that I didn't hear out his offer, I could then know how willing to buy it someone would be. Although that's a pity in terms of not having satisfied my curiosity. That Longines is one of my favourites and I wouldn't even consider parting with it.
And...so it goes. Hopefully the next few days will be better, because with our current schedule and the amount of things to do, I am totally exhausted. Yesterday, Mr. Furball just curled up on my bed. I just fell onto the bed in my work ourfit, sans tie and jacket, to scratch Furball behind the ear. Mr. Furball rested against my head, and I fell asleep with a purring, tabby heater by my head. And so I slept for over 10 hours.
Mr. Bloke out.
I always hope for the best. Experience, unfortunately, has taught me to expect the worst.
Elim Garak, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
No good deed ever goes unpunished.
Rule of Acquisition no.285
Elim Garak, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
No good deed ever goes unpunished.
Rule of Acquisition no.285