Subterfuge

The new Bait Shop manager is notable thesedays by his absence. Not that it bothers me; the fewer Stasi operatives floating around the place the better.

Flippant as I might appear, the parallel is more real than not. Policy, behavior, production, ways of talking, presentation, response…they’re all proscribed from on high. HQ dispenses solutions and requirements in precisely the same way as the Stalinist Soviet. Nothing is left to personal discretion or individual imagination. Who needs such imaginative elements when we’ve already thought of them?

Tonight, just before we shut up the joint, the closing manager revealed a telling fact. Someone (I’m certain the new store manager or his minion) expressed concern at the kind of jokes we bodies on the sales floor stretch out during the day. You know the kind of thing; a shared giggle at a shared reminiscence, or a mutual movie moment. It’s the kind of high-functioning process that people who can operate at different levels are able to carry off, and in fact need to keep occupied.

Retail sucks, particularly in this business and with this population. It’s a one-dimensional interaction with almost all customers. Oddly, management choose and hire people who can interact effectively with the 1% who require something more, which would be everyone on the current team.

So there’s the friction; most of everyone’s day is mundane and drab, but occasionally we rise to the challenge of a sentient customer. The trade-off is that we must amuse ourselves in the face of the awful standard consumer.

And that’s what they want to stop. You thought oligarchy was dead. Command and control is alive and well.