I was fired.
I was fired from J. Crew.
I was fired from J. Crew for stealing.
Those are the facts and I can’t deny them. That’s the rumor that is circling store #700 right now, and the people I once joked with, drank with, and complained about the mess in Shipping & Receiving with can only now speculate about the levels of my moral bankruptcy.
Just to clarify: I didn’t walk in and collapse shelves of pristinely folded cardigans into my bag, nor was I prancing out of the store a virtual layer cake of outfits. I decided to pick up (and pay for, imagine that!) a few gifts for friends and co-workers, have my manager ring me up for the items upstairs, and then (gasp) I was going to FedEx these little tokens on the company’s bill. Up to that point, that was my greatest criminal endeavor.
Synopsis from there: brought piles of stuff upstairs, manager was busy and kept jumping away from the register, fucked up ringing me up on the different credit cards/debit card that I specifically outlined, bullet-pointed, and diagrammed for him. I gift wrapped while he was ringing, brought stuff downstairs—in short, I noticed after the fact, while I was clandestinely boxing and wrapping my friends’ gifts, that a cardigan for CC had not been rung up. I literally exclaimed out loud, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” and being frustrated, annoyed at my manager’s flakiness and incompetence, I just said, “Fuck it.” We’ve all said “Fuck it,” and I really meant it—fuck it. It being the company, the Man, the idiocy, the wait, the unnecessary red tape and bureaucracy of it all. Fuck it, she’ll love the cardigan.
On December 19th I sealed a box that I thought contained a tank top and cardigan when in actuality it held January 5th inside.
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