I Need to Dress More Like a Slob

I'm not exactly dressed up today. I have a comfortable polo shirt, decent blue jeans and running shoes. I didn't shave this morning so I'm looking a little scruffier than I normally would but still presentable to the public. I only mention this to demonstrate that I'm not wearing a suit, a tie, a white pressed shirt or even dressing up to what I would consider business casual.

So why do people think I work in whatever store in which I happen to be shopping at that moment?

I stopped by a Hallmark card shop to get a birthday card for my nephew. A newly arriving customer asked if I had such-and-such a thing in stock. Being a decent person, I took her over to one of the staffers, explained what the customer needed and asked if the staffer could help her.

I was in Staples to get packing materials to ship some RAM to my corporate overlords in California. Another customer asked where she could find a particular inkjet cartridge for her printer. As it happened, I knew where to find the Lexmark cartridges she wanted and was able to take her to the appropriate row and locate a suitable model.

Finally, I went to the post office to mail off the package to California. As I was applying the machine-printed label to my package, a young lady popped in and asked me where she could get a change-of-address form. Not finding any at the counter where I was stationed, I directed her to the customer service kiosks around the corner.

Seriously, have standards for retail front-line workers dropped so perilously far that I blend in now?

More importantly, if I dress up a little, could I pass for corporate management and award myself bloody huge bonuses wherever I go? That would be cool.

I Need to Dress More Like a Slob

I'm not exactly dressed up today. I have a comfortable polo shirt, decent blue jeans and running shoes. I didn't shave this morning so I'm looking a little scruffier than I normally would but still presentable to the public. I only mention this to demonstrate that I'm not wearing a suit, a tie, a white pressed shirt or even dressing up to what I would consider business casual.

So why do people think I work in whatever store in which I happen to be shopping at that moment?

I stopped by a Hallmark card shop to get a birthday card for my nephew. A newly arriving customer asked if I had such-and-such a thing in stock. Being a decent person, I took her over to one of the staffers, explained what the customer needed and asked if the staffer could help her.

I was in Staples to get packing materials to ship some RAM to my corporate overlords in California. Another customer asked where she could find a particular inkjet cartridge for her printer. As it happened, I knew where to find the Lexmark cartridges she wanted and was able to take her to the appropriate row and locate a suitable model.

Finally, I went to the post office to mail off the package to California. As I was applying the machine-printed label to my package, a young lady popped in and asked me where she could get a change-of-address form. Not finding any at the counter where I was stationed, I directed her to the customer service kiosks around the corner.

Seriously, have standards for retail front-line workers dropped so perilously far that I blend in now?

More importantly, if I dress up a little, could I pass for corporate management and award myself bloody huge bonuses wherever I go? That would be cool.