Alright so this is a story that happened last week while I was working. As some of you will know, I work at h&m in the kids department. The most common response I get when I tell people I work in the kids department of h&m is… “why the fuck would you want to put yourself through that!?” The answer is simple: I FUCKING LOVE KIDS. My first two jobs when I was in my teens were at a hockey camp and a kids christian camp. You can see where the progression has gone. I’ve never really had a problem dealing with them, and I know how powerful of a tool they can be to bring up your day. This is an example last week.
So last week I was having “just one of those weeks”. My mind was drained. Just one of those things. So story goes that I was at work early (7am), and working hard at visual merchandising the department. Store opens at 10am, and almost instantly you hear a baby going fucking berserk. After about two minutes of this baby going batshit insane, I giggle as my manager who was working in the immediate area looks at me, and just leaves saying “fuck it, I’ll finish that later.” Ha ha. Pussies. Give it another two minutes and I see my chance to strike. The baby has grabbed a long-sleeve shirt, BOOM, “OHHH look what you found! That’s cool!!!!” The baby looks up at me, no longer crying, and gives me a HUGE SMILE. Mothers must fucking hate me when I give their kids attention, because that’s what the mothers are trying to teach the hard way (attention seeking behavior doesn’t work). With the big smile this little girl gave me, I knew this would be easy. Ok, keep her distracted, with lots of different things. BAM, ohhh look at this shirt you got, it’s Tom & Jerry! Do you know what he’s holding? “Baskeeattbawwll”. Ha ha. Yes you’re right, OH look at this other shirt, It’S COOL!!! “Dadddaa”. Oh, your dad would wear this? *nods her head*. Awesome. I follow up with the color game, destined to entertain for a few minutes. What’s this color what’s that color? Awesome. I ask her name.. “BEXKYY”. Shortly afterwards, Becky’s mother says time to go.
As I walk back to my project, a milf walks past me and utters: “You have the touch.”
I noticed I was significally happier afterwards, not because “I have the touch”, but because I had an awesome conversation with a kid that could barely speak, and was able to make her smile. I may never run into Becky again, but the memory will last with me forever.
-Elektro
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