Co-Worker Substitutes: A Cry For Help

When You Start Seeking Out Co-Worker Substitutes

I was shopping at my favorite store, Anthropologie, the other day. I have been frequenting it more lately for various reasons. Emergency must-have drawer pulls, that sort of thing. I have this farce that I have to maintain when I’m in that store. Some time ago I invented an alter-ego pseudonym: Kimber.
It’s like Kimberly impregnated Amber and they created Kimber. You should pronounce it with an up-talking accent. It drives my husband crazy when he’s the one who has to pick up Chinese food that I’ve ordered. He will invariably argue with the Chinese food server that doesn’t have an order under the name McCoy until he remembers that of course I told the Chinese food server that my name was Kimber. At Anthropologie, they write your name on the outside of your dressing room door. So they know me as Kimber there. Every so often I will forget and be horrified when I give them my real name. I sort of understand now about that you shouldn’t lie because it’s hard to keep up with your lies. Anyway, it’s done now and I’m freakin’ Kimber when I’m there.I’ve been chatting up the clerks because I noticed two of them had fabulous eyelashes. It turns out they both got eyelash extensions and I’m going to the same Salon to have mine done this week. I remembered one of them was in a wedding a couple of weeks ago and I asked her how it went. And then it hit me. I’ve become one of those ladies. You know, those pathetic ladies that use sales clerks as co-worker substitutes. Anthropologie has become my water cooler. It’s only a matter of time before I start carrying over-sized beach bags into the store. Perhaps I’m making up reasons to go there. I rationalized that I only ever buy sale items, and you have to go frequently, right? This phenomenon is related to retail therapy, but is not the same. My mood is improved by talking to adults, not from my purchases. Am I looking for love in all the wrong places? There is probably a Twelve Step Program that can help me. Mostly, I think I just need a job.

 

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4 Comments

  1. ev

    I did the same thing when I went back to work at Border’s for a boss I despised, just so I would have someone besides the dogs and cats to talk to during the day. And now the Wicked Witch is managing the local Barnes and Noble and I don’t dare go near the place. It may involve bloodshed. Not mine.

  2. Kelly

    It’s a slippery slope, Kimber. I ponied up for a $75 baby swing for the Starbuck’s barrista when I found that I’d been invited to her baby shower.

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