Work in retail for awhile, and you get jaded. It’s inevitable. It has been awhile since I worked a holiday season in retail, but not much has changed. People spending lots of cash on gifts, rushing around to the last minute to do their shopping. And just as inevitably, you see things that will make your jaw drop.
Like the guy who called our store a couple of days ago, looking for DJ equipment. Top of the line equipment, that he was going to give to his girlfriend as a gift, to the tune of $6,000. That’s not an error or a misplaced decimal. Six. Thousand. Dollars. And he paid in cash.
Granted, that’s an extreme. But I’ve helped parents over the last couple of weeks that have come in and dropped anywhere from $200 to $1500 on gifts for their kids. Plenty of them.
It boggles my mind. And it makes me sad and ashamed.
It’s awesome for those parents and those kids that they have the means to be able to spend on great gifts, especially gifts of music. Those are the kind of gifts that build mountains of joy and oceans of memories. And I wish that I could do the same for my daughter.
I love my daughter very much. Like most parents, I want to give my daughter everything I possibly can. The hitch is that *possibly can* is a whole lot less than these other folks. Which is how I found myself nearly weeping in a Walmart tonight.
Being back in retail, the last week before Christmas is insane. I’m scheduled about 70 hours this week, with one day off (my other day off was canceled). Payday was yesterday, but I didn’t get a chance to go shopping until tonight, the first night that I have left work before 10pm in quite some time.
We don’t live paycheck to paycheck. That would be a luxury. We scrape by, stretching every dollar and pushing every bill to the limit. I’d love to get ahead, even a little, but there’s just nothing extra. My car needs about $2,500 worth of work, I owe friends and family nearly $4,000 and have debt from my marriage that it feels I’ll never get out from under. My rent is currently about 2/3 of my income, the rest going to everything else, from utilities to gas to groceries. We don’t do much outside of home because there’s no money.
So when my daughter asked for a simple Lagoona Blue Monster High doll, I wanted to get it for her because there really isn’t much else. But I knew that this would be a popular item, and it’s December 23rd.
Checking my email, I found one from Toys ‘R’ Us saying they would have them at 6am on Dec. 24th. I decided to leave work – at 830pm – and head to Toys ‘R’ Us to see what I could find out.
The parking lot, at 9pm, was packed. I made my way in, and found it fairly orderly, no mass riots over toys. I also found the aisle where the Monster High toys were located was completely decimated. No dolls, just the odd flip-flops that matched the characters. I wasn’t surprised, but I had held out hope.
I found a salesperson and explained my situation – single dad, trying to make his daughter happy – and said I had received the email, but as I needed to be at work by 730a, I wanted to find out if the products would actually be there. She said she didn’t know, but that she hadn’t heard that any trucks would be arriving. I checked with another salesperson and got the same answer. They both suggested I talk to Customer Service.
I made my way to the desk, and I must have looked pretty forlorn, as the person at the counter gave me a sympathetic look. “Do I have Disappointed Dad written all over my face?”
She smiled and said “yes”, and I explained that I had to be at work in about 10 hours, and that I just wanted to know that the dolls would actually be available at 6am like the email said. She looked in the system and said there were no dolls there. I told her I really couldn’t afford to lose an extra two hours of sleep if they weren’t going to be there as advertised, so she asked her manager, who also said that there was no truck scheduled, and if the system said there were none, there weren’t going to be any.
I almost sat down in front of the counter and curled into a ball. For weeks, I have been helping parents buy their kids huge (at least to me) gifts, and here, I couldn’t find the one doll my daughter wanted. I went back to the car, and felt ashamed. Ashamed that I can’t provide the things for my daughter that I want to provide – that I think I should be able to provide. Ashamed that I have to ask for help from friends, that I can’t make the ends meet, no matter how hard I try. That I couldn’t afford to go out and buy my daughter a doll before they had run out.
I headed to Target, and they had none either. I started coming undone. Yes, I know, it’s a stupid f-ing doll. But it’s a doll for my daughter. And there’s a whole lot more to that than just a doll. Those of you who are parents know what that means. That doll isn’t just a toy. It represents being able to take care of your child. A simple plaything that carries – at least for me – a whole lot of weight behind it.
A good friend called me while I was on my way to Target, and sat through my call while I nearly lost it. It’s a stupid doll. and yet, I couldn’t deliver. When I couldn’t find it at Target, she suggested Walmart. On December 23rd.
I made my way there, and back to the toy area. I found the aisle with the Monster High dolls. And they were there. All except the one my daughter wanted. I was crushed. My chances of finding this doll were next to nil.
I walked the aisle a couple of times, hoping to find an alternative – something that wouldn’t be too big of a disappointment. She’d asked Santa for this doll, and we’d had plenty of disappointment to go around in the last couple of years. But there really wasn’t anything.
I was heading out of the toy area when I saw an employee bring out a pallet of new merchandise. And on it, I spied something that said Monster High. I waited patiently for him to unload it into the aisle, and when he had, I explained my situation. He graciously opened the box for me. And there, inside, was exactly one of the dolls I was looking for. Just one.
I looked at him, thanked him, and said “You rock…”, and nearly started crying. Over a stupid f-ing doll. He looked at me kinda funny for a second, then smiled, said “You’re welcome”, and went on his way.
I headed over to the videos and found a copy of a video my daughter wanted, and on the way out found an Angry Birds t-shirt she liked. Total spent? About $38. I wanted to spend a lot more – she’s my kid and I want her to have the things she wants. But that isn’t in the cards.
But for all the sadness and shame I feel, I also have to give thanks. In the last year, I have been fortunate to find out who my true friends are. Like the friends that saw that I needed help and didn’t just offer to help, but insisted that I take it. Those that have given of themselves far more than they have asked in return. And who I hope to one day be able to repay manyfold. Without their kindness, their caring and their compassion, I don’t know where my daughter and I would be today.
And so, in this way, I feel very fortunate to have what I have – a network of caring people that have good, beautiful hearts, and whose compassion I’m not sure I deserve.
So, I have one holiday wish for you, whatever faith, creed or philosophy you follow:
May you enjoy the blessing of having the friends and family that care for you and support you in good times and bad, that truly put themselves out for you, even when you don’t think you deserve it. May your year to come far surpass your dreams, and become the base for new ones. May the hardships of the past become a distant memory, and the memories to be made become ones of joy, laughter and love.
And I hope that this season, you feel – at least once – the wave of gratitude that I felt tonight, when I found that one doll, in that one box. Joe at Walmart – you rock.
No related posts.