(Words: Unknown Parts Counter Guy) – It’s nice to see the reaction to this little bit of writing by everyone, and especially the ones who understand all too well the fun that I go through on a daily basis. Thank you for the response! (Ya really think they’re gonna bust on the lunatic with the paper bag on his head and the ax? – ed)
After the first few installments, I wanted to pick a random day and document everything that went on, hoping that the day would turn out to be worthy. I shouldn’t have doubted myself…I chose a day that I came in to work fairly early and closed on, kept the phone close so I could quickly do notes while fetching parts or on a bathroom break, and waited for the mayhem to begin. Here’s the play-by-play:
10:00 a.m.: I arrive an hour early to plot how I’m going to get this experiment started. As soon as I enter, I realize that any planning has already gone to shit. The warehousing guy looks like a WWII shell-shock victim, our new driver is running to the truck, the Store Manager looks frazzled, we have apparently fired our Special Ed, and the other two guys are doing double-duty, working both counter customers and phones at the same time. As soon as the Store Manager sees me, he gets a look like he just received a gift from God, clocks me in an hour early, throws the bag that contains the contents of my cash drawer at my chest and tells me to get to it. We currently have lines that are damn near to the front door. Instead of slowly sipping the pineapple juice I brought with me, I mix a Redbull in it and slam it like a college student before finals.
11:48 a.m.: IT. WON’T. STOP! They just keep coming…it’s like a zombie apocalypse hoard except that instead of brains, they want spark plug wires, cleaning crap and for me to change out a battery or wipers for them. Regardless, I still can’t help thinking of the movie Zombieland as the cash register rings up over and over…where the hell is my ax when I need it? About this mark, I break contact to take a desperately needed leak. First break anyone has had since I entered the building. When I return, the other two counter guys look at me as if I betrayed their trust. The natives are restless and any more delays might incite a riot.
12:32 p.m.: Realizing that anyone going on lunch is a futile effort, the Store Manager calls in an emergency action strike from code name: Papa John.
12:48 p.m.: If I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn I just heard our new guy start crying in the far back, near the heater cores. Instead of checking on him, I just assume it’s the circuit for the store lighting and get back to checking out the (gag!) unwashed masses.
1:17 p.m.: In my first “Where’s Waldo?” hunt of the day, I end up ripping up an Acura 3.5RL’s console to find the OBD-II port to the absolute horror of the college-age R. Kelly wannabe who drove it in. Problem? EGR valve took a dump.
2:06 p.m.: First time since arriving that there are no customers in the store. I send the guy I’m closing the store with tonight to check on the new guy. The other counter guy is eating two pieces of pizza at once, stacked one on top of the other. Store manager is hiding in his office, claiming that he needs to catch up on paperwork…I think he’s on the phone with either his wife or therapist. The warehouse guy still has the 1000-yard stare going. He’s making me nervous now. I am trying to remember if I have military gear in my storage unit and if my wife can bring it to me.
2:18 p.m.: SERIOUSLY, YOU BASTARDS ATE ALL THE F*@%ING PIZZA?!
2:36 p.m.: Woman with a sugared-up five year old son comes in. Kid sees the Hot Wheels display and immediately drags all of the packs off of the display. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Store Manager open a pack of Tums. Mom orders an eight-pack of high-performance coils for her New Edge Mustang GT. The kid, who up until this point has been on repeat with, “Mom, I want a toy!”, “Mom, I want a Hot Wheel!”, “Mo-om! Hot Wheel!”, has his attention refocused when I bring out the box. He looks up at mom and asks, “Is that a toy for me?” Without missing a beat, she replies, “No, those are for mommy’s toy, honey.”
Three counter workers, in near-unison, raise an eyebrow and stifle a snort. Some “toy”.
3:07 p.m.: One for the “Holy Shit, That’s Destroyed!” file: two guys who look like the survivors of a coal explosion come in holding a lot of metal. Placed upon the table, it’s a rotor to a late-model GMC TopKick…except the hat of the rotor is a separate piece, and the ring of the disc is in three pieces. A direct competitor had turned the rotor down to well past minimums, told them it was quite alright, and three days later, the parts failure appears here.
4:00 p.m.: New guy’s shift is over. It’s his second day. Wonder if he’ll come back tomorrow?
5:00 p.m.: Warehouse guy’s shift is over. Hope he stays home the rest of the week…and finds his meds.
6:28 p.m.: Had just sold a battery to a customer. Had offered to change the battery for the customer, but the customer said he had tools and that he didn’t want to bother me. Not ten minutes later, I hear the unmistakeable sound of something arcing on two battery posts and two guys screaming surprised obscenities. Sure enough, the genius let a 7” ratchet extension try to tack-weld itself to the now core battery’s terminals. As the other closer fixes the situation, I can’t help but notice that the ’84 LTD that it’s sitting in reeks of gas, like the carb is flooded.
7:00 p.m.: Store manager is making a run for it. I don’t blame him. Early signs indicate that this might be a record sales day. His excuse for running? A college basketball game is starting and he wants to watch it at Buffalo Wild Wings. The other closer and I start plotting revenge for this. Three minutes later, we have his uniform shirt sitting in a tub of water. In the freezer.
8:00 p.m.: We start cleanup procedures. I come to the realization that I haven’t seen the delivery driver since I arrived. I make sure the truck is parked out back…I was sincerely thinking he just said “screw it!” and drove off. While the other guy starts sorting out the day’s receipts, I start to sweep up the floor…and realize that one of our patrons came in with fresh manure on their boots and left quite a bit of it over near the truck accessories. It’s now cemented to the floor. Great.
Customer comes in and buys a battery. Other guy volunteers me to change it. Thanks. I’m immediately shown to a 1989…uh…Chevy? GMC? Dodge? Hell, I can’t even tell anymore what this poor van used to be, except mostly green, most likely a conversion van…I’ll just call it a ’89 Rapist SLT. I’m creeped out looking at it. Opening the hood reveals an engine bay that looks affected by bubonic plague. For the first time ever, I go find gloves before I touch this thing.
CLOSING TIME: The day was a sales record by a LONG shot. Every part of my body hurt, something that normally doesn’t happen. Instead of my typical mindless drive home with the music blasting, I turned the radio off, rolled down the windows, cranked the heater a little and just cruised, enjoying the relative silence on the way home. When I arrived, I kissed the wife, unwound for a little bit, then did a large shot of NyQuil and called it a day.
The next day, I told the Store Manager that I was losing weight at this job from the exercise. His look of shell-shocked horror told me he knew I wasn’t kidding.
Odd…I’m the only one working who thought it was a rather fun day.
Hmm…
On the one hand, my store has “priority customers,” who have their own dedicated phone line, and we have to do EVERYTHING for them and do it first, before other customers. Even including buying from outside sources, researching parts with the dealer, etc etc… It keeps us massively busy, because these phones can’t be put on hold, and must be picked up after 3 rings.
On the other hand… I don’t have to install batteries and light bulbs for joes off the street.
I think I like my job better. O_O
I remember the runs on kerosene at the gas station back in the early 90’s when I woked at a garage. I would spend the better part of the day at that pump, outside in the cold pumping gas for people who wanted to be warm. Then right before a storm hit we would have a run on snow tires or tire mount and balance (cheaper at our shop than the tire shop down the street), then while the storm was beating the town to death the never ending AAA calls for jump starts and tows, then replacing batteries all day…Helped solidify my dislike of the human race..
I came home early to catch up on paperwork and saw that paper bag. All work stopped for now.
…and that’s the reason why I don’t work with customers. I wouldn’t make it past the first day.
This is the 1st installment of this feature that I have stopped to read, and man, it brings back memories…. REPRESSED memories!
I’ve been there.
I served as a pee-on, a manager, a commercial sales guy, and even a parts driver at a large auto parts store chain when I was in college, and I could tell stories like this until I go blue in the face. Working at an auto parts store blackened my soul forever. I still have nightmares.
I just envisioned a support group meeting where stories are shared and the healing can begin.
” ’89 Rapist SLT” Hahaha. That’s gonna be my new answer when anyone asks me what kind of car I drive.
Exactly! LMAO!
On a good note, this is my deal.
I bought a 1927 Model T Ford hot rod at a swap meet, it was partially completed.
I started to finish it and when I needed parts, I’d go to my local NAPA dealer, Ken was the man I got, what a God Send.
I could take him a part, or explain what I had and he could give me what I needed, never once steering me wrong.
On our first encounter, I thought he was a “little gruff”, but we became friends after that.
Ken has since left us, may he rest in peace.
And yet there is one word that would make that day seem like a walk in the park.
Stocktake.
That day when you find out the hardway that some one either can’t read, can’t count or simply doesn’t care where things should be.
Oh and you find out that the boss is on a health kick so instead of a dozen pizzas he caters with those quartered stale sandwiches you find on budget airlines.
BUT he does supply copious amounts of coke, this being pre redbull times.
Made me glad they only got us workshop guys to do it just the one year!
I see that our author is wearing a Speed Week shirt in his photo. Must be one of us.
How else would Lohnes know me?
Makes me yearn for the January that it never made it above zero for 10 days in a row. At least all we did was sell the parts. You wanted it installed, you were on your own on that one…..
If I were the new guy crying would not have happened. Would have told someone to go F-themselves and promptly been fired. Parts guy my best advice is start drinking heavily.
I hear that. A lot.
i love a busy day. just not too busy. always have time to change wipers for little old ladies or check your vin or look under your truck or hood to see that “thing” on top of the motor. i’m glad we don’t do any installs or diagnostics. it’s been -20c or worse the past 3-4 weeks
I’ve had days like this!
Today I drove 6+ hours each way to the funeral of my best friends father………….not sure if you had a better day than me or not!
22.5 yrs Tha is the official number that our computer says about my time here.
One thing that really peeves me is that one customer who walks in or calls saying maybe i can help, laughs then tells you that he has been all over the place and talked to everyone in a 200 mile radius that he should go to @$#^@%#$@ because we can pull parts out our azzes. So i hate people too. More Stringent drivers exams for these people are needed in this country
Why do you have a freezer? I have been in many many a parts store over the years and never saw a freezer.
This one asks the IMPORTANT questions…
We have a fridge with a freezer on top and I work in an autoparts store. Don’t you?
We’re having fun this week-end at the autoparts where I work.
We’re doing the inventory… yay