The Art of the Hustle

by Edward Mullen

  ***

  Every night at closing, the big cage gate was protracted from the wall and locked into place, securing the store from any entry and exit. Typically, we would leave all the TVs and music playing during closing, but ever since Isaac took charge, he put an end to that. For the next half an hour, I cleaned up the store and restocked the shelves just like everyone else, in silence. I was robbed of any power I had. It was no longer enjoyable being there, but I still needed the money. My plan was to just ride it out and get my old position back.

  One night at closing, Isaac came out in his grand bravado to make a big announcement. “Listen up, boys and girls, nobody leaves tonight until all this new merchandise is security tagged and put onto the floor.” There was no discussion, it was an order.

  I looked at all the boxes we received and estimated it would take us about an hour and a half to tag and stock all of these items. We were all scheduled to be off at 9:30, less than twenty minutes away.

  I stayed and tagged with the rest of them for the next twenty minutes. When it was 9:30, I yelled out to Isaac.

  “Hey, Isaac!”

  “What?”

  “I need you to come check my bag and let me out,” I said, in a somewhat cocky tone. The rest of the staff continued to do what they were told. The Athletic Surplus had a habit of not paying overtime and I was not interested in working for some tyrant for free. I had to keep a promise to myself, to never be taken advantage of again.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. “I told you nobody leaves until all this merchandise is tagged.”

  “My schedule says my shift ends at 9:30, so I’m off now.”

  Isaac stood there for a moment. I had blatantly defied his authority in front of everybody. He walked over to the cashier desk, grabbed a plastic hanger, and whipped it against one of the clothing racks. It shattered in several small pieces.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked smugly, holding open my bag so he could perform the security check. My eyes were staring directly through his. I was not backing down, and he knew it. He opened the metal gate and allowed me to leave. Without even the slightest attempt at making eye contact, he slammed the cage door shut and aggressively fastened the lock.

  “See you guys later,” I said, as I looked back, waving.

  The next day, I expected some sort of retaliation – bathroom duty, stockroom duty, heavy lifting… When I arrived to work, I went to the back and put my things in my locker. I grabbed the schedule to see whom I was working with that day. I noticed my hours were once again reduced down to fourteen. The number one sales associate and former manager trainee now works twice a week. It sure didn’t take long for things to change around there. This was a lesson I was already familiar with, so I was prepared for it.

  “Hey, Isaac, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “What?” he said coldly.

  “Is there any reason why you cut my hours again?”

  “I made the decision to reduce your hours, along with everybody else’s last week.”

  “Yes, but I had twenty hours, now I have fourteen.”

  “Oh, the twenty was an oversight.”

  “You know what, Isaac… you’re a little weasel. I was cool with you until you started to mess with me. Your big ego couldn’t handle the fact that I outshine you. Or maybe you were picked on in school and this is your way for getting back at the popular kid. It’s no wonder nobody likes you. You disgust me you little worm. You should be fired,” I said looking down on him.

  “Are you done?” he asked.

  “No, go to hell, I quit!”

  C H A P T E R

  T W E N T Y - F O U R

  It’s a wonderful feeling to stand up for yourself, but it’s a scary feeling to lack the security of a steady paycheck. I woke up early, had a quick shower, and got dressed in my white golf shirt and khaki pants. I found the nearest internet café and updated my résumé that I had saved in my email account.

  Once I was satisfied with the finished product, I printed out several copies and immediately hit the streets. The first place I applied to was Mike’s Athletic Store.

  “Good morning,” I said to the woman behind the counter. May I please speak with the manager?”

  “One moment please.”

  I glanced around and tried to imagine myself working there. It was a lot smaller than what I was used to, but it was right on the main strip downtown. I thought it would be nice to get out of the mall and breathe some fresh air. Plus I lived right across the street – I could go home for lunch.

  “Hi, my name is Jay, I’m the manager here.”

  “Good morning, Jay. My name is Trevor and I would like to speak with you regarding an employment opportunity. Are you hiring at the moment?”

  “We are, but only for a supervisor position.”

  “Well, you’re in luck, Jay; I’m exactly what this store needs. I managed the Athletic Surplus for the past year and was consistently the number one seller in the country.”

  “Do you have a résumé?”

  “Yes,” I carefully took out a freshly printed résumé and handed it to him.

  As Jay was looking over my résumé, I continued to sell myself.

  “I’m familiar with all the products you sell, I’m trained on the same computer system you guys use, and I’m an expert on store merchandizing, scheduling, and training.”

  Jay looked up briefly, but didn’t say anything.

  “So why did you leave Athletic Surplus?” Jay asked a very good question.

  “A new manager was brought in recently and we had a personality conflict. I was no longer happy being there, so I decided to move on. I’m still very passionate about selling athletic gear, so I immediately came here to apply.”

  “Okay, let me get back to you, I’ll let you know by the end of the week.”

  “Sounds good, thank you so much for your time, Jay.”

  I left Mike’s and handed out the remaining résumés to every cell phone shop, restaurant, and clothing store in the neighborhood. I had nothing left to do except wait for someone to call me.

  A few days went by and I bumped into Jamie, one of my old managers at Athletic Surplus.

  “So, I hear you applied at Mike’s,” he commented.

  “How did you hear that?”

  “Jay is a friend of mine. He called me and was asking about you.”

  “Okay, so what did you tell him?”

  “I told him the truth.”

  “Which is…?”

  “I told him you’re a hard worker, good with people, and a great seller.”

  “Did you tell him why I left?”

  “Of course, I told him the whole story. He asked me if he should hire you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Don’t worry, I told him to hire you.”

  Later that day, I received a phone call from Jay; he offered me the supervisor position and I accepted it. I had once again landed on my feet.