Factor Y and X(tian)

Y is my co-worker in retail. Right now, it's only him and me holding down the fort, without the luxury of at least 2 others to spell and support us. Which means we face good fortune and misfortune together, suffer the slings and arrows of the most well-shod but ill-bred, mean-spirited customers this side of the Rockies, and generally need to depend on each other, or kill each other. We are looking at some nasty behaviour in the time to come, the holiday (aka, "Christmas") season. Only Y and me.

"Y" is a born again Christian, I guess. He is a Baptist. He was an alcoholic who was saved. Sixteen years ago. Y has his quirks, but he's mature, responsible and caring and unabashed about his being saved.

How do we help each other through these extremely trying retail times? It sounds funny, to talk about the largest part of our lives spent serving others, "trying". As if retail weren't a bitch? It can be fun, but fun isn't enough; nor is the drama that attaches to it, the fires needed to be put out, all the while with a smile. I have never met so many unhappy, vicious, soulless people in my life, in one of the richest cities in the country; they aren't having a bad day, they are having a bad century, and they want to share it with you.

As much as you want to sympathise with customers, at some point you are sympathising with crybabies, people from 20 to 80; now that is a challenge. I really just want to write them off, but I was instilled with manners, and Judaism taught me not to shame people in public. Yeesh. I want to be Machiavelli laced with Dorothy Parker. I took a fun test once and and my dark side evoked Darth Vader, not Han Solo, or Princess Leia or Luke Skywalker. Yeah. I want to be Darth Vader. On some level, I am Darth Vader. Get out of my way or I'll bring you down. Kill you.

It bugs me that I can't do it. Blame it on G-d. Or some sensibility that cuts me off at the mouth. Not that I'm even remotely quick off the mark, but I would be so willing to learn at the feet of a master mouth. I would make an art of it and a life's work. But then, maybe I would not survive and die a drunk in some literary salon, like Dorothy Parker.

Instead, I've got "Y". We offer an old-fashioned service in a ratrace world. When those worlds clash, the rats try to crush everyone in their path, which means, us. Y got so angry at the talkback, that he took his break and kicked an entire container of floor cleaner all over the back room, the lid being loose. He felt better but I didn't, though I could totally sympathise with having to deal with whining, abusive 60 year olds.

I told him it gets me distressed, when someone is that violent. He went home and came back the next morning with the insight that he was afraid of losing his job. The guy is a total gem, and the best at what he does, I told him so, and emphasised that right now we have leverage cause if we go, that store goes down. But more so I told him about the past couple of years, of living below poverty level, of fearing that I'd end up on welfare, or on the street, and somehow making it to this point, nevertheless. I am no longer afraid, I certainly am not afraid of losing my job. I have been blessed by angels, from online, and from the non-virtual world, loving friends, who kept me going. Frankly, welfare doesn't seem that scary to me, either. I have been with the homeless and discovered that there is not that much difference between them and me. Whether I am rich or poor.

But most of all, Y and I have G-d in common; he talks about G-d more than Jesus. Do I perceive G-d's hand in everything that happens to me? Oh, yeah. And I told him so. Sometimes those are the only words that one needs to hear, from another who's been through a lot, to raise themselves up back beyond fear. I, personally, do not see Jesus saving anyone, but I keep quiet. Y has opinions about the role of men and women that I don't share. I haven't really said anything controversial yet, except to mention the times for his break. But what we do have in common is a desire for shalom, even though we may use different words for it. And we're willing to work to get there, carrying each other.