Surviving Day One

Yesterday, I walked into a clothing store at the mall and nearly received a customary, professional greeting from one of the employees. But then she recognized me.

"Oh, hi!" she said, her cool expression melting into a smile. I smiled back at her, my new co-worker.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen: I am officially a legitimate member of the work force. Last month, I walked into the store and, inwardly trembling, asked if they were hiring. "We are," said one young woman, looking at another. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Do you have morning availability?" the other woman asked.

"Yeah, I do," I answered, momentarily proud to be a homeschooler.

"Okay!" The second woman produced a business card from behind the counter. "Go to this website, and apply."

I did. And for the first time in my life, they called me back. And asked for an interview. And then hired me.

So last night, I went back to that clothing store, now literally trembling, this time as an employee.

"Are you excited?" The assistant manager stood with me as we waited for our manager to return from her break.

"Yeah. And nervous." Honesty is the best policy(??)

"Oh, you'll be fine." I grew weary of hearing this, but of course it was true. "Come on," she invited. "I'll take you to the break room."


The break room? As in, the back room, the one that says authorized personnel only?? She was leading me where no mere mortal has ever gone before, and I had a right to enter.

A list of employees and their numbers was posted on the wall--and my name was on it. They had been waiting for me. Some girls get giddy over concert tickets or prom dresses. Not me. I freak out about my name being posted in generic font on a generic wall. To each his own, right?

The manager returned and assigned me a locker. (More freaking out.) She handed me a sticky note with the combination and told me to take out my identification and put my purse away while she got ready for me in her office.

People, I have given up on being graceful or dignified or confident in new situations. It just isn't possible. I fanagled that lock to kingdom come and it would not open. Embarrassed, I peeked in her office, and, feigning professionalism, said, "I'm really sorry, but I cannot get that lock open."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She popped up and opened it for me. I pushed in my purse--and (of course) made the mistake of closing the lock again. When I needed my purse again, we enacted the scenario a second time, this time leaving it unlocked until I left.

Aren't I inspiring? You all should have full confidence in me by this point.

The next two and half hours went off without any major catastrophes. With the exception of a few mistakes in my information, they were relatively uneventful. I sat in front of my manager having flashbacks of driver's ed as she walked me through policies and procedures galore. Everyone was jealous.

By closing time we had nearly finished, and the manager decided it was time for me to have some (cue trumpets) on-the-job training! She sent me to take out the trash with the girl who had recognized me at the beginning.

"How's orientation?" my trainer asked, treating me as an equal even though she had to be at least a couple of years older.

"Fine," I sighed, not sure if I should share how welcome was this break from the reading. The teaching was valuable and necessary, but I have a tendency to chomp at the bit a little.

She wheeled the trash cart through the back door and into the labyrinth of hallways behind the stores. I was so happy at this new experience that I didn't notice how sketchy the hallways were until later, when I described them to my mother. We boarded an elevator--also sketchy--and made small talk. For the umpteenth time, I incredibly grateful that each of my co-workers had this far been sweet and welcoming. I was reminded of dancing with the elves who hadn't judged my inexperience (see "Because Christ Says I Can").

My trainer warned me that each part of the journey would be gross. It was, but I didn't care. I was helping! So what if it was tossing trash bags into the compactor, it was exciting!

We returned to the store and I finished up orientation for the night. They bid me goodbye, sending me off with what was quite possibly a ridiculous grin on my face, judging by the nearby security guard's reaction. As soon as I was outside the door, I exhaled from somewhere I had forgotten about all evening. "Thank you, God." With His help, I had survived the first day, and proven this job would be one of my greatest adventures to date.

And I hadn't even answered any phones yet.

Stay tuned...