It’s been over four years now since we moved from Austin to Portland. Keep (insert city name) Weird! The cities have similar liberal politics, food trucks, and great restaurants, but the weather is vastly different. I’m beginning to see the days grow shorter here in Oregon, as sunlight no longer greets my 6 a.m wake-up call. In a few months, a seemingly endless drizzle will begin with only spotty sun breaks. Next week, we head back to Austin for a wedding, where I’ll get an opportunity to see a few old friends.

I had a tough start in Austin after abruptly losing my leadership role back in Illinois. My wife took a sales management position with our former company and moved us to Texas. I had a fairly generous severance package, so I wasn’t in a big hurry to find a new career path, and spent some time writing by the pool at our temporary apartment complex. I had a few wounds to lick and the Lonestar State sunshine helped the healing process. It was only after I became a popular poolside fixture that my wife encouraged me to find a job…any job. It was a big step down, but I found work selling men’s suits in a town that preferred not to wear them. This is where I met my two best friends in Austin, who we’ll be meeting for a reunion dinner in seven days. 

One of these friends will be joining me in retirement in the next six months, while the youngest of our trio now owns a men’s clothing store of his own. He was the only one of us that was really serious about the clothing business. The name of his business is “Where Men Shop,” the same as the fictional store we were writing a humorous Broadway musical about in our down-time together waiting for that next customer or “up.” If you’ve ever worked in the retail business, it’s a thankless job of being on your feet all day and trying to maintain a smile when nearly everyone you deal with is impossible. You simply bite your tongue so you don’t say these words:

 

Just Get Out

Just Get OUT!
We stand all day,
We’re in retail sales,
When our feet hurt,
Our patience fails.

Service is key,
We aim to please.
Not to mention,
Commission fees.

We wait all day,
For you to arrive.
You always show up,
When we close in five.

OUT…
Get OUT…
Just Get OUT…
Get The Hell OUT!

As the customer,
You’re always right.
But push me too far,
Get outta my sight.

An honest mistake,
No need to shout.
Take your damn refund,
And Get the Hell OUT.

Better deal elsewhere,
Have any doubt?
Don’t try to bargain,
Just Get OUT.

OUT…
Get OUT…
Just Get OUT…
Get The Hell OUT!

After several attempts,
Not a good fit.
No pleasing you,
Like we give a sh*t.

Don’t think we know,
What we’re talking about.
Your way or the highway,
Just Get The Hell Out.

If it ain’t Armani,
You turn up your snout.
If we’re not trendy enough,
Just get OUT.

OUT…
Get OUT…
Just Get OUT…
Get The Hell OUT!

Know the owner?
Want to use your clout.
Just following their rules,
So Just Get OUT.

Can’t find the door,
We’ll show you the route.
Don’t share a bad day,
Just Get OUT.

We can’t help you,
If you’re short or stout.
Don’t waste our time,
Just get out.

OUT…
Get OUT…
Just Get OUT…
Get The Hell OUT!

If you want to unfold,
Mess up our displays.
Or can’t make up your mind,
For what seems like days.

Don’t let the door,
Hit you in the ass.
Go somewhere else,
We’ll take a pass.

Our shoes won’t fit,
If you’ve got the gout.
Or if you’re contagious,
Just get OUT.

OUT…
Get OUT…
Just Get OUT…
Get The Hell OUT!

A trained professional,
Not just a clerk.
I won’t be treated,
Like an ignorant jerk.

If your breath,
Smells of sauerkraut,
Or if you don’t bathe,
Just Get OUT.

As far as returns,
It’s the last straw.
When we step outside,
Be ready to draw.

OUT…
Get OUT…
Just Get OUT…
Get The Hell OUT!

If you’re my “up,” 
I need you to buy.
So don’t come in,
To just say hi.

Clothing is our trade,
It’s our living.
Oh, by the way, sir.
One last thing.

We don’t measure,
Men’s inseams.
I’m not on sale,
Only in your dreams.

OUT…
Get OUT…
Just Get OUT…
Get The Hell OUT!

Copyright 2009 johnstonwrites.com

It’s been nearly ten years since I wrote these words. Maybe they were funnier to me back then? It was a frustrating time in my life, so laughter was the best medicine. I spent about a year doing this job before an opportunity finally came along with a local business publication. My accounts turned out to be primarily bankers and lawyers, the only business people in Austin that wore suits everyday, despite the blistering heat. Ironically, these were the same people that would come into the store looking for a bargain. The difference was that I now went to their office to sell, so I could just leave when I wanted, rather than let it get to the point of wishing that they would “just get out.”