The Self-Esteem of Babies

I never liked having other people take care of me. I learned to cook as soon as I could. I learned to do my own laundry. I learned to keep order in my own life. I grew up as an individual, in the sense that I had a certain pride for myself and my own well being. I liked knowing I could rely on myself for my own needs. I don’t need someone else washing my dishes or putting away my clothes, I’ll do it if I want and when I want. There is the saying, we are taken care of as babies, then before we die, we are taken care of again–because at the start and ending of our lives, we just can’t do it, we can’t take care of ourselves.

As a person working in retail, there are certain levels, limits to which I can understand customers, and then areas where it’s like they’re babies and I’m wiping their buttock after they take a poop. I can think of the mother and daughter who came out of their fitting room, looked at me, then looked at each other, and then started to laugh. As they walked away, I looked into the fitting room and they left all their clothes on the floor, and all the hangers in disarray. Obviously, they had some intent in their actions, perhaps thinking, “Well he’s paid to clean it up, isn’t he?” There are the endless customers who leave destruction in their wake, not even knowing how to lift a stack of clothes to grab the size they need–far easier to just yank that extra-large out of the bottom of the pile, right? Someone here is going to clean it up, right? Someone has to. Do we have the same ideas when we litter or pollute? Someone else will clean up this mess. It would seem many people do believe this ideal.

I possess something which seems utterly rare, it’s called self-esteem, it’s called self-pride. I have a sense of well-being about myself. I don’t see myself as a slob, although I admit I can be lazy, but I see no reason to be a slob in public. I don’t litter and throw my rubbish around idly. I don’t even throw away my recyclables if I know I can take it elsewhere. I especially have no need littering in retail establishments, destroying their folded piles and leaving waste in my wake. I always take my own clothes back, fold my shirts as nicely as I found it, and to the surprise of salespeople, I refuse to let them put anything away.

I don’t need slaves. Even if I were rich, I’d be working alongside people doing work. I see no purpose in making people do things I can do. It would hurt my own self-esteem feeling that someone else has to clean up after me. I would feel like I were some big baby if I couldn’t even do something as simple as keeping order and balance. It would be comparable to soiling my underwear and having someone clean my butt. Of course, I alluded to that metaphor already, didn’t I?

Somewhere in the mind and mentality of humans there is a need or want to be treated as a child, or have someone slave over them. Some people call it pampering, which often comes with a certain price-tag. There are other poorer people who seem to believe the cost of money is beyond the cost of being human. The point where you start acting like a child–whining to get what you want, consciously leaving a trail of disaster behind you, and believing, truly believing the customer is always right–you have issues which really need to be addressed, especially if we want to have an evolved society one day. For other people who dream of having someone slave for them, I probably have no words to express my feelings. Desperate, ridiculous, and humiliating come to mind, and this is me comparing you to the word ‘human being’.

I could pray and wish for a world where people are raised with a sense of awareness. Where people are proud to do their own work, to bring as much balance and peace to the world as possible, people who would strive to find equality between human beings. Until then, I’ll be content cleaning up your mess, because obviously you lack the self-esteem, awareness, and respect to do it yourself. I assume you’ll return to diapers as soon as possible, too.

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Doing ‘The Sasquatch’.

This move I call, “The Sasquatch” is repeated so many times, every day, every week, that anyone working in a fitting room would know it. After trying on clothes, the customer sees you, walking by, holding clothes they don’t want. And they turn, ever so slightly, acknowledging your presence inadvertently, knowing they should hand you the clothes–even if your hands are lifted towards them like a homeless street urchin begging for pennies–then they walk by you and toss the clothes anywhere they damn well please (kind of like how they’d pass a homeless street urchin and throw their money somewhere wasteful, the irony!). But they always have to do that turn, that look which says they know what they should do, the know what the right thing to do is, then they just do something else. I’m not a fan of The Sasquatch.

Oh, now it’s gross. I agree.

It always amazes me when I’m standing, gazing from afar, like a bird-watcher, and after a customer tries on something, they look around, then toss the clothes into a pile anywhere they want as if they’re washing their hands of unwanted litter. Yet, only minutes before, they were coveting it, covering their bodies with it, hoping it would reflect their own inner-imagining, radiating their beauty for the world to see. Now, it’s just a pile of rubbish they have to get rid of.

Worse are the customers who try on so many different outfits–seriously, as an adult how bad are your fashion skills if nothing you try on works, and you just tried on twenty different items? While trying on the clothes, you pile it up in a corner on the floor. Then, you leave hangers anywhere and everywhere in the room littered across the floor. Really, seriously, I hope you consider this–someone before you might have tried it on and did the exact same thing. *Wipes the dust off from the floor* Some people’s minds are so narrow, it’s nearly unbelievable. Really, do onto others doesn’t apply in this day and age, at all.

Customer Types: Piggies