Today's blessed with a warm breeze and a soft sunshine, and it seems to be brightening up everyone. Cars buzz here and there, and surprisingly traffic teems up the humble stretch of Koornang Rd. like it does on Collins St. at the CBD. Mums and dads pushing prams or tagging along kids beat the sidewalks. Dogs on leads trod silently or sit lazily outside shops waiting for their masters. It's fun watching them sit like a rock, unfazed by the admiring stares from passersby. The aroma of surrounding international cuisines, the scent of freshly washed clothes from the coin launderette across the road, and even the fumes from styling chemicals emanating from the salon next door, can tell you how vibrant this tiny strip is.
Saturdays are usually the busiest day at the strip, but today is especially busier because of the opening of the suburb's new library. It used to occupy a modest door among the string of shops on the opposite side of the road from where I work. But now, it sits exuding grandeur in the hub of the shopping centre, with its own carpark, playgrounds and a landscaped promenade linking it to the rest of the strip. From the tiny shop with a few assortment of books and a cramped space for children's storytime sessions, the new library is four times bigger and boasts of a very modern architecture with a separate multipurpose wing for preschool kids and an indoor playground. It was built with the whole community in mind, with function rooms which can be rented out by the Council and clubs. I heard the senior citizens' clubs have already gained priority access. How about that? You didn't think they were sloooow, right? :)
For the first time since I started work at the bottle shop, we'll be open on a Sunday. Yeah, we're hoping for good sales too, but we're trading mainly as part of the weekend celebration. We're giving a discount on the housewines, which should be appealing to new customers. That's bad news though for Alex.
He's an everyday customer (as different from one considered a "regular") who keeps the discount furniture shop two doors down. He just stepped in to buy his usual two bottles of Heineken lager, as he eats lunch "like Jesus" with bread and alcohol. He alternately buys Carlton scotch whisky, which he had earlier purchased, too. The whisky, he claimed, will be reserved for tomorrow for, what I thought, was a send-off party for his wife who'll soon be leaving for holidays in Greece. Well, he corrected me after and said he was going to celebrate, because he bought his woman a one-way ticket "for a grand vacation". He lets a devilish smile and a wink and shuts the door behind him. Oh, Greek he is.
Saturday, 22 October 2005
Thursday, 13 October 2005
Life in a Liquor Shop
My retail experience has finally come full circle.
Aside from learning much about wine, beers and spirits (and of course, selling them), I have rapped sales talk, swayed customers into preferring our own brand, suggested which wine can go with which cuisine, recommended grape variety/region/vintage over other types, faked personal knowledge about the product to get them convinced to buy it or not (Well, I'm no drinker to begin with.), given wine tastings complete with memorised tasting notes, snubbed off drunkards who try their luck getting more, built rapport with regulars... and today had my share of shoplifters.
There were three of them boys, all dressed in baggy jumpers and trackies. One was even sporting a sling over his shoulder, purporting an injury but actually was the bag in which to put in his picks.
While one kid was obviously trying to upset me with his sloppy chickenburger consumption by intentionally making drippings onto the floor, the other two busied themselves in the ref aisle. It seemed they hadn't only done this a few times and pretty much knew well how to distract their victim. Of course, in this case, that's me. :( Every one of them kept me busy, asking prices of different beers and spirits. Alicia, our bookkeeper, was well-hidden at the back but was also watching the chook dancer pacing near the till. Unfortunately, everything under two minutes transpired pretty smooth for the two at the ref area, which required a giraffe's neck to view from where I was.
When later I asked them for proof of age, one said he was already 23. The guy with supposedly an arm fracture produced a dilapidated passport and took out his "broken arm" to show he was tucking under his jumper a Smirnoff bottle, which we don't sell. He was trying to convince me that it was actually him in the old photo, but I was more interested in his birth date, which I noticed didn't make him at least 18 yet. He closed his passport and reiterated with annoyance that he was born in 1986. With a tight upper lip, I told him that what I read was 1989 and that even if he was born in 1986 as he claimed, he'd actually be 19 because he was born on a May. The chook them joined them and said the sealing statement for the trio, "Well, let's go. She doesn't trust you, mate."
I sure didn't.
I was sure something fishy went on, but neither Alicia nor I was brave enough to confront them on our suspicion. It left me fuming and Alicia shocked to find a drastic change in the stocktake, which we painstakingly covered in days. (Just imagine counting thousands of bottles!) When Angie, the shop owner, arrived, we reviewed the playback at the surveillance monitor. I was completely stupefied, shocked, outraged, disgusted, and basically traumatised with what we found. To be in the midst of something like that is temper-challenging and control-wracking, but the scene of it all is nauseating. How these kids commit such petty crimes and knowing they're actually aware of what they're doing, is most disturbing.
Hmmm. Let me find consolation in the fact that it wasn't a hold-up and neither of us was hurt. I know being held up or robbed will outdo this and probably truly complete my so-called life in retailing, but God, I hope that will never ever happen.
Aside from learning much about wine, beers and spirits (and of course, selling them), I have rapped sales talk, swayed customers into preferring our own brand, suggested which wine can go with which cuisine, recommended grape variety/region/vintage over other types, faked personal knowledge about the product to get them convinced to buy it or not (Well, I'm no drinker to begin with.), given wine tastings complete with memorised tasting notes, snubbed off drunkards who try their luck getting more, built rapport with regulars... and today had my share of shoplifters.
There were three of them boys, all dressed in baggy jumpers and trackies. One was even sporting a sling over his shoulder, purporting an injury but actually was the bag in which to put in his picks.
While one kid was obviously trying to upset me with his sloppy chickenburger consumption by intentionally making drippings onto the floor, the other two busied themselves in the ref aisle. It seemed they hadn't only done this a few times and pretty much knew well how to distract their victim. Of course, in this case, that's me. :( Every one of them kept me busy, asking prices of different beers and spirits. Alicia, our bookkeeper, was well-hidden at the back but was also watching the chook dancer pacing near the till. Unfortunately, everything under two minutes transpired pretty smooth for the two at the ref area, which required a giraffe's neck to view from where I was.
When later I asked them for proof of age, one said he was already 23. The guy with supposedly an arm fracture produced a dilapidated passport and took out his "broken arm" to show he was tucking under his jumper a Smirnoff bottle, which we don't sell. He was trying to convince me that it was actually him in the old photo, but I was more interested in his birth date, which I noticed didn't make him at least 18 yet. He closed his passport and reiterated with annoyance that he was born in 1986. With a tight upper lip, I told him that what I read was 1989 and that even if he was born in 1986 as he claimed, he'd actually be 19 because he was born on a May. The chook them joined them and said the sealing statement for the trio, "Well, let's go. She doesn't trust you, mate."
I sure didn't.
I was sure something fishy went on, but neither Alicia nor I was brave enough to confront them on our suspicion. It left me fuming and Alicia shocked to find a drastic change in the stocktake, which we painstakingly covered in days. (Just imagine counting thousands of bottles!) When Angie, the shop owner, arrived, we reviewed the playback at the surveillance monitor. I was completely stupefied, shocked, outraged, disgusted, and basically traumatised with what we found. To be in the midst of something like that is temper-challenging and control-wracking, but the scene of it all is nauseating. How these kids commit such petty crimes and knowing they're actually aware of what they're doing, is most disturbing.
Hmmm. Let me find consolation in the fact that it wasn't a hold-up and neither of us was hurt. I know being held up or robbed will outdo this and probably truly complete my so-called life in retailing, but God, I hope that will never ever happen.
Wednesday, 12 October 2005
Beating the Unbeatable
Well, that wasn't difficult. I didn't even have to be that creative. I just had to be attentive to what he really likes.
As we were strolling in the mall, his pointer excitedly flickers to the direction of a certain rack. Hanging there was a very handsome shirt, from whose touch of the material alone I knew came with a sparkling price tag. Well, we were in David Jones, so I should kinda expect that. Apparently, he had done some window shopping yesterday as he was whiling away the time, waiting for me to finish my shift. He knew exactly which size to try on, and when he did, my train of thoughts was arrested. I was speechless for a moment. The fit was perfect, hugging him in the right places. And seeing him both delighted and good-looking with it, is unbeatable. This is definitely heaps better than my Special Seafood Fried Rice Extraordinaire.
We did a few more mad shopping, which hasn't happened for the longest time anyway. It felt fantastic to be able to get myself a pair of jeans that I couldn't wear to work and a belt to go with it that will require a few more sit-ups. We didn't eat out, because my chef at home is a lot better, and he doesn't charge me ridiculously. :)
There was much done, but I don't think we ran out of energy just as yet. Tyrone went out to do a bit of riding while the sun was still up. I had poured mine in getting the kitchen ready for my chef's use. In my new pants sans the belt, I arranged our grocery items and cleaned up sink, floor, ref and all. Just in case he'd catch me still undone, I made sure I was wearing the cologne he gave me last night which, apart from making J Lo richer, truly gives you the glow. Hehe. :)
Dinner was sumptuous, with luxurious flavours filling our palates. Potato salad with parsley and red capsicum, chilli prawns, stir-fried kangkong in soy, and lamb and oxtail curry. To accompany was a bottle of 2001 Old Vine Grenache, which seamlessly blended with the mood of the night.
So, that was a year, and what a year it truly has been. But looking back, I realise one can never cap it off with just fine gifts or big dinners. I guess, living it every day at one's best for another's is the best way to celebrate any relationship. Nothing beats that, and I hope I'm doing just that.
As we were strolling in the mall, his pointer excitedly flickers to the direction of a certain rack. Hanging there was a very handsome shirt, from whose touch of the material alone I knew came with a sparkling price tag. Well, we were in David Jones, so I should kinda expect that. Apparently, he had done some window shopping yesterday as he was whiling away the time, waiting for me to finish my shift. He knew exactly which size to try on, and when he did, my train of thoughts was arrested. I was speechless for a moment. The fit was perfect, hugging him in the right places. And seeing him both delighted and good-looking with it, is unbeatable. This is definitely heaps better than my Special Seafood Fried Rice Extraordinaire.
We did a few more mad shopping, which hasn't happened for the longest time anyway. It felt fantastic to be able to get myself a pair of jeans that I couldn't wear to work and a belt to go with it that will require a few more sit-ups. We didn't eat out, because my chef at home is a lot better, and he doesn't charge me ridiculously. :)
There was much done, but I don't think we ran out of energy just as yet. Tyrone went out to do a bit of riding while the sun was still up. I had poured mine in getting the kitchen ready for my chef's use. In my new pants sans the belt, I arranged our grocery items and cleaned up sink, floor, ref and all. Just in case he'd catch me still undone, I made sure I was wearing the cologne he gave me last night which, apart from making J Lo richer, truly gives you the glow. Hehe. :)
Dinner was sumptuous, with luxurious flavours filling our palates. Potato salad with parsley and red capsicum, chilli prawns, stir-fried kangkong in soy, and lamb and oxtail curry. To accompany was a bottle of 2001 Old Vine Grenache, which seamlessly blended with the mood of the night.
So, that was a year, and what a year it truly has been. But looking back, I realise one can never cap it off with just fine gifts or big dinners. I guess, living it every day at one's best for another's is the best way to celebrate any relationship. Nothing beats that, and I hope I'm doing just that.
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