The district manager was in the store the other day. It was one of those types of corporate visits I like to call "The Seagull Visit."
It works like this: the executive or officer swoops in swiftly, screeches alot and makes a lot of noise, lays out a lot of droppings all over the place, and then swoops out just as quickly as he came in without so much as a "by-your-leave," or even a "thank you for your dedication."
This week the guy blew a gasket because the clothing on our softlines tables weren't folded "crisp" enough.
W.T.F.?
Yeah, I can just imagine it now: "you know what Doris, the edges on these folded shirtS are out of alignment to a microscopic degree. That's just awful. As a casual shopper, just I can't handle that -- I'm going to go to the competition."
PUH- LEEEEEAZE.
What do I need to do to get paid a corporate salary, with perks, Enron-style hidden stock options, and vacations, just to be able to fly in and dog people about their garment sleeves. Ah yes, that would be the life for me.
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