Sunday, August 22, 2021

CHAPTER 192: IMPRESSIONS OF MY LIFE: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A RECHERCHE POET CHICO'S TURNING A PAGE OF MY LIFE 2005 - 2010

 CHAPTER 192  CHICO’S TURNING A PAGE OF MY LIFE  2005 - 2010 



Something else happened in 2005 that changed my life around. When I was looking for a new employment I said, “I don’t want anymore thinking jobs. I want something more physical. Some occupation where I come in, do my job and go home, I don’t want any more jobs where I am taking work home. When I get home I don’t want to even have to think about the job.  I’ve had 45 years of thatkind of employment.  No more!’


It was a goal, but I thought it not possible, then one day I was doing what the Job Placement people told me not to do, peruse the newspaper want ads. These were a waste of time, they told me. But I saw this one opportunity, working in the stock department of a woman’s shop. I decided to inquire.


The place was called Chico’s, it was  part of a chain, and this particular store was located in Greenville, a tony area outside of Wilmington. I drove out to the little mall along  Kennett Pike called the Powder Mill Square, obviously named because it was so close to DuPont’s old gun powder mills on the Brandywine. I walked in and a woman came over to me. 


“May I help you?” she asked 


“I’ve come about your ad for a stock person.”


She threw her hands up in the air.  “Thank God,” she


exclaimed, “are we glad to see you!”


I knew at that moment I would probably get this position. Her name www Debbie Litka and she was one of the assistant store managers. 



I would have to wait until the store manager arrived, so I did. Not long after that the Store Manager, Lisa Butler, pulled into the lot and I was soon filling out paperwork and before you could sneeze, I was the new Stock Supervisor at that Chico’s.

 


I soon met the other assistant store manager, Ronda (no
H!) Casey, who then showed me about the place.

 





My domain was going to be in he stockroom, for the most part, over the next 5 and a 3rd years.


Dan the Fed Man of FedEx would deliver a number of cartons to the rear door of the stockroom in the morning. 


I would open each carton, count the items an compare
this number to the lading sheet. If there was  difference I had to play detective and find out why and get I corrected. 




I would then put most items on a hanger and place upon a rolling bar. This would then be placed in cages that rolled along one wall. Other items, such a Jeans would be folded than paced on shelves. The sale personal would then come back to the stock room and take samples off. The new shipments out to the main show floor.


Some times I would have to steam the wrinkles out of some item before thaw could b display for sale. Sales personnel would restock the main show room from the cages or shelves so there were no gaps.


When I started this job, I discovered the stockroom was a
disorganized  mess. My first priority thus became putting everything in order to make it easy for the restocking. This meant rearranging al the cages so like items were together and hung by style, size and color.  It took a bit of time ut I completely organized the stock.

 


Some things over the Chico years bothers m, mainly he waste. When we had clothes that could not be sent back to the warehouse to be sold in our discount stores, they had to be thrown in the dumpster and be destroyed. I always felt these clothes could have have been donated to the homeless, but that was a no-no. I once had a young woman begging me to let her have some of the cast-aways, but of course I couldn’t. I toss them into the compactor. I then told her I would be leaving, if she wished to climb in the dumpster and forage that was her business. I don’t know if she did or not, I didn’t hang about to witness.


This was the same fate suffered by store decor once used. Each month Lisa would receive photos of how the store should be set up. There would be displays and framed pictures to emphasize a theme. These items were tossed at the end of the month, yet they were perfectly good items. The pictures especially, often lovely photographs of nature or landscapes some would be happy to hang in their home, but never mind…they had to be trashed.


Chico’s was founded in 1983 by a couple named Marvin and Helene  Gralnick.  They originally met in Guadalajara, Mexico. The story about the store was they were a Hippie couple selling their art out of a VW bus. They dad move to the Sanibel Island, Florida where they opened q shop which Helene named Chico’s Folk Art Specialties, named for a friend’s pet parrot, Chico. They sold mostly folk art but also some sweaters. They offered Mexican Folk Art, antiques and fixtures Marvin made in his workshop. However, the sweaters began outselling everything else, so they turned their shop into a clothing boutique. To survive, they would not close the store until reaching a certain total of sales each day. They couldn’t even afford to have their bags printed, so the Chico’s name was handwritten on each bag. 


Eventually they were able to pen a second store and in 1987 vegan franchising their business, until finally today they have over 1,300 Chico’s store.  They also operate under three other brands, White House Black Market, Soma and TellTale. One of their unique practices was how they sized their clothing, 0 to 4. 

 




My new boss was very nice lady and gorgeous, well-built and had once been dance. She had the lithe and graceful body of a dancer. 


This all created problems for me as a healthy male; despite growing old, I still had an eye for women, always had, but also always respected them. I would never have touched a lady or come on to one. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t look at a beautiful woman.


 Lisa was a beautiful woman and she generally wore Chico’s dresses to work, because that is a good way to show off the product to the clientele. The difficulty for me was many of these outfits tended toward low and billowing necklines, meaning if she bend over even moderately they tended to show a bit more than modesty intended. I never told her, and I hope she can understand because we are still friends, but we males have a hard time positioning my eyes  upon a face sometimes.  I put Lisa on my list of best bosses I ever had, but where to look was never a quandary with the others bosses on my list.


Ronda Casey Clark was a long time friend of Lisa’s and
was fun to talk with. She was also a great looking woman, red haired and all Irish. She had a child during my tenure there. It is hard to believe that little baby is now in her late teens. I still am in touch with Ronda. In the beginning, when I started at Chico’s she was one of the  Assistant managers.



I really liked the job, it was exactly what I had looked for. There were some danger, I suppose to opening cartons and reaching in. Once there were some open box cutters inside, but I didn’t cut fortunately. Another time I opened a carton and found boxes of varied caliber ammunitions.  We had to have the police come and remove these bullets for disposal. I never did find out why these were in our carton of new clothes. 


Another time we had police investigating because some
one stole our petty cash box of its contents. Thi one made me nervous because the petty cash was kept  in the stockroom and only a few of us knew the location. I was one of those and I was also in the stockroom along much of the time. I figured this made me the prime target. I had my own suspicions of who did, but the was just a hunch. I don’t think they ever did find out whodunit.


After working at Chico’s for five years, thing began to unravel.  In my last few month, corporate fired Lisa. I don’t really don’t know the circumstance, perhaps a clash between her and the new district manager.I recall my first meeting of this district manager. I had spent some time taking boxes and shaping them to hold wrapped T-shirt. These were placed on shelves in the stockroom where a sale person couldn’t quickly locate a sale, color and size as needed.  This worked well. I had used supply boxes as we got them, so it took a while to have enough for the T-Shirt storage. First thing this district manager said to me on her first visit was that I had used the wrong boxes. So what, these worked just fine, but she made me use a different box and do the whole thing over. What a waste of time and energy.


When the district manager was coming for a visit, Lisa had to call in extra people to go through and clean the store, another waste of time and money. Corporate then changed our hour from 9:00 AM until 9:00 PM to open at 10:00 and close at 11.00.  I liked coming in at 8 to prepare the store for the day
and live at 1:00. Now I couldn’t start until 9 and leave until 2., which as odd as it sounds, totally disrupted me  day.  Why was this done? Because most malls in the country operated from 10:00 to 9:00. But our Mall was different, but corporate didn’t like into the benefits to us of this. We did a brisk business early in the day because many business people came early to get coffee at Einstein’s Begals across from us before they went to work. The mall itself basically shut down at 8:00 in evening, so that hour between 8 and 9 PM was fairly dead for us.m The Mall parking lot lights were turned off at eight, so the Mall was dark after that hour.


Corporate then install some kind of counters over our doors. They could then a percentage of customers who enter to sales and judge our sale people based on that.  Two problems with this. 


First, and I suppose minor, we employees could not go our to lunch or anything because we would be counted and give an inaccurate sales to entry radio. 


Secondly, was the story setup. Next to us was a restaurant called Cromwell’s American Tavern entered down a  a short hallway. We had a door in the front toward the parking lot, but a second door into that short hallway. People going to the restaurant would cut through our store from the front to the hallway door as a shortcut, again throwing the round to purchase ratio off.


Remember how I mentioned one of my duties each time I opened a new carton of clothes, was to count the items and compare this to the packing list.  If the count didn’t agree I had to reconcile the difference.  Corporate send down a memo that we were no longer to count the items and do this comparison.  Oddly, after we complied our shrinkage figures increased each month and corporate blamed this unaccounted lost of product on our sale people.  It may have been we just didn’t do due diligence anymore.



But what finally did it for me was they were doing away with the distinction Stock Person. Now everyone was suppose to become a sales person or a cashier, which I did not want. I am not a salesperson. Many of our customers were well-off and spoiled. They came in with a ‘hey you’ attitude. They would buy a dress for some affair they planned to attend, then bring it back a day later after they wore it and demand their money back. Chico’s at this time had a very liberal return policy. They would take an item back no questions asked. There was no time limit of a return. Our patrons took advantage of this. Some would return year old items. They would complain about colors bleeding, when they washed a white article in hot water, even when the label clearly stated not to do that, but we would take it back.


Anyway, a little after five years of being there, I resigned.


Wednesday, August 18, 2021

CHAPTER 191: IMPRESSIONS OF MY LIFE: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A RECHERCHE POET CHANGE OF THGE DECADE B STILL HAVING FUN 2005

 CHAPTER 191 CHANGE OF THE DECADE  BUT STILL HAVING FUN  2005 




I sent out a number of resumes and visited possible job sites during the beginning of 2005, but with no positive results. I even hit the fast food joints. I wondered how much my very visible psoriasis may have turned off the managers. “I don’t know what he has, but he ain’t touchin’ my food” It isn’t easy being a freak like the Alligator man.  Toney the Alligator man,  pictured left did not have Erythodemic Psoriasis as I did, but he had similar dry scaly skin of a disease called Ichthyosis.


My psoriasis at one point had become Erythodermic and this endangered my life. Fortunately, treatments got it under control and I was never so bad again. However they believe stress can induce flare-ups, and I had certainly been dealing with high levels of stress.




Noelle had come off her deployment to Iraq in the fall of 2904 and she returned to her once a month reserve meetings at Fort Dix and her job as a VetTech at the Delaware Humane Association.  In April she was named the DHA’s Employee of the Month an honor she would receive several times.


However, her return to a somewhat normal life was  interrupted once again on May 5, when she was deployed to Djibouti in the Horn of Africa as part of the Task Force Against Terrorism. This time she was Marine command at Fort Lemonnier, an United States  Naval Expeditionaty Base near the Djibouti-Ambouli airport. This is the only permanent U.S, military base in Africa, and had once been the base site of the French Foreign Legion.



Sergeant Meredith played a role in  forming this mission, which she had volunteered for. It was to engage in basically human and animal services through out Ethopi and Kenya. They were to steer clear of Somalia, which often called “The worst place in the world”. The country was best known for the pirates terrorizing the trade waters off its coast. 




In Kenya, her outfit was treating livestock and keeping the
native beast healthy. This was mainly sheep, camels and goats.


 

They went in-country (the abbreviated form of the Military designation called “Indian Country, usually a hostile area), to treat the medical needs of many Ethiopian in Gode. Long days, sometimes in 40 degree heat, injecting people, giving and medicines and doing diagnosis. This was on mostly  women and children.




 




This was Noelle’s cadre in the 401st Airborne.







On July 6 I took my own excursion to the duPont Hagley Museum. This is where Eleuthere Irenee duPont founded his black powder mills alongside the  Brandywine Creek in 1802.  The DuPont’s first home in America was up on a nearby hill, and today the house and garden’s are open for touring. These were Calle the Eleutherian Mills. A school for the workers was also construct and today school children can attend a summer camp here.


You buy your tickets in the separate gift house, then board a bus to ride up to the mills locations. It is a beautiful place to walk around on nice days and learn the duPont history, 



People in period costumes man the various sites and ofter give demonstrations. 



You also catch a bus to go  see the home on the hill.




On July 18, Lois and I decided to purchase a new car. We settled on a Chevy Cobolt, which had just come out on the market. Lois was somewhat reluctant because  it was such a new model, but once we test drove it she was sold. She did insist on the orange color, though.




On August 18, Darryl wanted to have his independence
now that he had  a job, so transferred to the Radio Shake store in Dover and moved to an apartment in just on the East side of town.   It was called Autumn Run.  nHow odd to see his room vacated and empty. Now we were down two kids.  Darryl was in Dover and Noelle was still in Djibouti 


Laurel remains at home. 



Darryl was 23. After high school he had lived at home for four years, but now he was on his own and began acting like a single twenty-three year  old.  After work at the Dover Mall, he was getting together with his friends at Bubba’s, a bar along the Dover Strip. 


At twenty-three I had been married going on 4 years, with
a house and a mortgage,  and going to night college. I never experienced that sowing one’s wild oats time. Darryl was out meeting girls and getting drunk. Celebrating “Funky Shirt Night at the bar.






Lois and I went to one of our favorite places for two days, Gettysburg, staking in the Travelodge right off the  Battlefield. 


 

We had lunch in the
Dobbins House the first day, which was directly across the street from our lodging. It was pitch dark when we entered, taking a bit for our eyes to  adjust and find our way to a table.  This portion was on the lowest  floor and decked out as an old pub, called The Springhouse Tavern. The servers dressed in costume from the Civil War era. 



The only illumination in the base room room was by candle. 




We spent our days touring the various Gettysburg Museums of which there are a number including:





The Steinwehr Lincoln Train Museum


 







The Jenny Wade house,









Hall of Presidents





Soldier’s National Museum

 









The Baltimore Gettysberg Village


 








Among others.


 








I went on my own and walked about the National Cemetery, where Lincoln gave his Gettysberg address.


 





We ate lunch at the Spiritfield Pub, right across from our motel. That first day we had dinner at the Dobbins  House, but this time upstairs in the formal dinning

room.



 





The next morning we caught a tour bus that took us on a tour of where the  three days of battle actually happened, following the order the actions had  happened.



I still can’t figure out how they hid all the monuments when they filming the movie “Gettysberg. 










Now, if you go to the battlefield and take the tour, you will travel a road called Meredith Avenue.  







It was named after General Solomon Meredith, who had a command at Gettsyberg









Lois on Lttle Round top returning to the bus. 



  








We had dinner the second night at the Farmsworth House. 






If you wish you can count all the bullet holes in the side wall, be my guest.






 





On October 19 we joined Ronald, some friends and
Captain Morgan at the Brickside Grill inn Exton’s Eagle Village. 






On December 11 we continue out long  tradition of having dinner at Casey’s in Upper Darby,  







Then visiting this house with a giant Christmas Light display in Drexel Hill. 



 



Lois got together with her girlfriends, in a group they called the Upper Darby Butterflies on December 17.




Somehow in this year, Stuart Meisel and I managed to
write the book and music for a play we called “Life Ate My Homework.



YOUNG ART (Still behind Young Bobby.)

We better get going.


YOUNG ART turns on his heel and moves back toward the car. MARGARITA slips her arm around YOUNG BOBBY'S arm. WHITNEY gives her an odd look and takes his other arm as the three walk to the car. YOUNG ART opens the car doors and MARGARITA slips into the front passenger seat. WHITNEY looks miffed. YOUNG BOBBY looks at YOUNG ART.


YOUNG ART

It has to look as if she is your date when we arrive. We'll switch inside the gym.


WHITNEY and YOUNG ART get in the back seats. YOUNG BOBBY gets in last as driver. All four bounce up and down and
all make a grr-rrr-rrr sound as if the car is moving and the engine is running. After a few seconds they pretend to stop and get out of the car. MARGARITA grabs YOUNG BOBBY'S left arm, looking up at him. WHITNEY takes his right arm, glaring across him at the other girl. YOUNG ART trails behind as they go into the dance. They sit and the two girls surround YOUNG BOBBY. MARGARITA and YOUNG BOBBY adlib talking and then they get up and dance. WHITNEY sits and fumes. As they dance, a spot picks up OLD BOBBY keying in the background. They continue to dance through the song, but on the last chorus the downstage lights off.


OLD BOBBY (Singing)

I'm not proud to declare

My inebriation in her dark embrace,

In the moonshine of her hair.

Her eyes were wine decanters

In the wondrous bouquet of her face.


I am not proud to share

I became an alcoholic afloat in space, 

Intoxicated on air

Beyond reason and care

Except the drinking in of her face.


I wanted just a taste

To explore its mystery

To claim it as my drink

Obtain some mastery

On the high beyond that face.


This is my confession,

I have no precedent; I haven't a case.

It was an act of passion,

A rash and foolish action

I was becoming drunk on that face;

I was addicted to that face.

Spotlight off.

OLD BOBBY (Spoken)

Nope, I'm not proud of it, guys, but when I saw Margarita’s dark beauty I wanted her. I got to the dance and Whitney might as well been the crepe hanging along the walls. Trip home wasn't much fun. Pretty quiet ride after I dropped off Margarita and Art, and I don't think Whitney said boo to me again.


Excerpt from Life Ate My Homework, 2005.

by Stuart Rayfield Godfrey Meisel

   and Larry Eugene Meredith.




On the right is the face I wrote this song about, Carmela was her name.