Reprinted from December 1994
It was obvious winter was upon us when the tribe of hippies who’d summered on the service station roof across the street moved into the Goodwill collection box on the corner.
I leaned over RB’s bench and made a humble suggestion. “Hon,” I said. “You know winter is approaching; that means Christmas is just around the corner. We’re going to need an extra helper to gift wrap and wait on customers.”
He peered up from his two-inch focus long enough to grunt an approval, so I placed an ad in the local paper for a counter girl. And it came to pass that several applicants tried out for the job. We finally decided on one girl who was well spoken and shapely. Her name was Muffet.
“Muffet,” I said, “I’d like for you to come in Friday after school.”
“Oh, Mrs. Williams,” she cooed and rolled her eyes. “I’d love to but I have a club meeting. I can’t start until Saturday morning.”
“Well, that’s okay. Just be here an 8 a.m. so we can get an early start.”
When she arrived at work Saturday morning (30 minutes late) she spoke not a word but went straight to the phone.
“Oh mo-th-er,” she sighed. “Be sweet and hem my blue dress so I can wear it to the prom tonight.”
Her conversation only lasted 15 minutes so I really didn’t have any cause to complain.
“Now, Muffet, I want to show you how to work the register.”
“Oh, Mrs. Williams, I’d love to, but I didn’t have any breakfast and traffic was terrible. I’ve simply got to have some coffee before I start. I hope it’s okay.”
When Muffet finally finished her coffee break it was 9:30. “Now,” I said briskly, “I want you to arrange the little girl’s jewelry on the bottom shelf of the showcase.”
“Oh, Mrs. Williams, I’d love to but I sprained my knee playing tennis last week and I can’t bend over. I hope it’s okay.”
“Well…I…uh suppose so. Just take care of the customer at the counter while I arrange the girl’s jewelry.”
I was really impressed by her willingness to give complete customer satisfaction. I overheard her telling one prospect how much cheaper he could purchase the same item across the street at the discount store. She even volunteered to gift-wrap a couple of items some clown had purchased elsewhere. I should say she volunteered for me to gift-wrap the items because she simply “didn’t know how to gift-wrap properly.”
Her enthusiasm for jewelry was genuinely astonishing. She showed at least three customers “her bargain,” the Sarah Coventry jewelry she was wearing. Golly, I wish she’d been as enthusiastic about our stuff.
At 12 p.m. sharp she departed for lunch. I wish she’d been as prompt about getting back. She finally returned at 1:30-all smiles.
“Oh, Mrs. Williams,” she gushed. “I’m so sorry I’m late. There was a sale at Springers and I simply lost track of time.”
Generally speaking she did better during the afternoon – if you don’t count dropping the customer’s watch and breaking the staff, leaving the showcase unlocked and making 10 trips to the bathroom. Of course these trips were probably caused by the eight cups of coffee she consumed during the afternoon, so they were somewhat justified.
By 4 p.m. RB had just about forgotten it was “the season to be jolly” – especially since he and I hadn’t eaten yet.
So he said to Muffet, “How about running over to the ‘golden arches’ and picking up a couple of burgers for us?”
“Oh, Mr. Williams, I’d love to, but I simply can’t.”
“Can’t?” repeated RB, astounded. “Why?”
“Well, the wind is blowing now and it would cause my miniskirt to fly up. I’d be too embarrassed. I hope you understand.”
Then, laying a finger beside of his nose and giving a snort from the bench RB arose. He sprang at poor Muffet like an uncontrolled missile, and she departed so quickly, like the down from a thistle. And I heard him exclaim as she fled from his sight, “If you come back in here, you’ll be in for a fight.”
