This actually happens a lot. Someone will come in asking for something, and it'll occur to me that "Oh, hey, we should sell that."
I also broke one of the rules about work and called Dan. Dan hates texting, which I really don't understand. I don't text people I know who can't get texts or have to pay for them, but neither of these is true with Dan.
"I didn't think you were going to call my bluff," he said on the phone.
"Yeah, well, I'm not suppose to be doing this. If I have to put this down for a moment, that's why."
Dan went into one of rants about why texting is a terrible medium for communication. He carried on for a bit, complaining about how you can't get the timber of someone's voice.
He brought up some good points, but the thing that hung in the back of my mind as he was talking was how much of my communication is written. I'm a writer, so, duh, of course my communication often takes place in written form. But even disregarding that, I spend a lot of time writing to people. Obviously, I write on this blog. I write emails and keep correspondences up with several friends (Ashley, Robert, Josie, Caryn and Jennifer as of right now.) I even use instant messaging to talk to people, particularly Christine. And then I texted about twenty-five people within the last week. If I could only use my voice to communicate, I'd be cut off from a lot more people. And I would miss them. (And in some cases, would have trouble getting things done, since some of those communications are work-related and not just making small chat about lip piercings, made-up words, and homework.) I didn't really get to making this argument back to him.
A couple of customers kept asking me questions (which I didn't mind, because that's what I'm there for, dur.) This ticked Dan off, and he hung up on me, which of course ticked me off.
I know that I explained where I was and how I was breaking the rules for him, I thought to myself. But then I decided to carry on. I can't let this kind of stuff bother me. I've clearly got a full plate of drama.
Later on in the evening, a woman was asking me about a particular model we had out for people to try out. It runs on batteries, and I noticed a small amount of liquid around that area. My breath sort of held. It looked like pop, but maybe I was wrong. I told her it just needed new batteries.
It took me a few minutes to take off the lid, just because it didn't adhere to the whole "righty tighty, lefty loosey" concept. But even as I was trying to work it off, more liquid was coming out and all I could think was "Eww."
Midway through my battery incident, I turned around, an older woman was standing there. I had one of those scare moments, but she just had a question.
I finally opened it up, and indeed, there was a nasty oil over everything. Great. Someone had left these batteries in here so long they leaked out. I picked them each out and discovered only one of them was spilling out, which I guess I should have been grateful for. I picked up the two good ones and threw them into the recycling batteries bin. I went to the back to get papertowel and lifted the bad, leaky battery. And then used more paper towel to clean the rest of the mess up.
Then I nearly face palmed over how stupid I was. I was treating this like what happened when batteries exploded with white Manganese. This wasn't that, and maybe I was doing something unsafe or unsanitary.
I wasn't sure what to do then. Who among my friends would possibly know what to do? And then I realized the only answer: Dan.
So I texted Dan, even though I know he hates texting. I asked him what to do. And then I waited. About a half and hour later he texted me back, recommending baking soda. Oh, bloody hell, I thought. We can't even get enough room for our stock. I sure as hell don't have baking soda, and of course, I'm working alone, so I can't even leave to try to find some nearby.
Maybe this is like one of those things where I can substitute something, like in baking. So I texted him back asking if there was something else I could use. He told me no. Frak.
So I ended up just doing what I had done and then leaving the model out for an extra half an hour to make sure it dried out. And then I put new batteries in it and it worked, no problem.
Speaking of batteries, this woman came in and demanded that I sell her batteries. We don't sell batteries, but we use them in our models. And we have gone weeks without them, because the boss hasn't purchased any. So I didn't sell her any, and boy, did she let me know how much she disapproved of that. A part of me felt like I should just sell her the batteries for an ungodly sum and pocket the money, but that would be dishonest.
I've been closing a lot at work lately. I think I would prefer to open, just because it involves less work. I also wonder if my brain's just too tired to make things work, because after a shift of six or seven hours, it feels like I'm moving really slowly and in that sluggish way that signifies nothing good.
It's also so cold where I work. We're suppose to have the door open, and I try to keep it open for as long as possible. Even after I put on a sweater I find myself shivering. The good and bad thing about shutting the door is I think it makes some people think we're closed even though the lights are clearly on.
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