Baby Clothes and Credit Cards

As Amir put on his black polo shirt, freshly ironed by his mom, he wondered what this Sunday shift at his retail job would have in store for him. Maybe an angry customer or two. A monstrous return of 30 dresses to handle. A condescending comment from his boss.

That is why he hated being up before noon on the weekend, a gentle reminder that while his peers were in college doing whatever they wanted, sleeping in until whenever they wanted, Amir was stuck with these thoughts at home. Gap year blues, he called it, a year of solitude and humble work to save up some extra money for himself and for his mom. The lights need to be kept on, the water running. Time spent at college is time not spent earning a wage. What a pity. One shouldn’t complain, though, he told himself. There’s more to life than just parties and fun. He couldn’t afford to be selfish.

On his way out of the apartment, he took a quick peek into his mom’s room. There she lay on her bed, catching whatever sleep she could find. Soon, she herself would be getting ready for her job at the diner across the street. Maybe she’d encounter an angry customer or two. A monstrous party of 30 people with no reservation. A condescending comment from her boss.

Lately, he worried about her health. She complained often about her back pain but couldn’t go see the doctor without insurance, or at least until either of them had saved up enough money for the copay.

A pit formed in his stomach. He quickly whispered goodbye, grabbing the car keys to their old Honda and venturing out into the crisp morning air. Like always, his shift was at the customer service desk working alongside his coworker Wendy.

“Wendy,” he muttered with the crank of the ignition. What a nut-case. To be so committed to a minimum wage job was delusional. He disliked the way she’d hound after customers who’d shoplift or bend backwards trying to get enough credit cards opened. Such behavior wouldn’t change a thing. At the end of the day, the two of them were still stuck at the counter, providing service to the moneyed people of town on their weekend shopping spree.

He parked his car, entered the towering department store, and made his way over to the customer service desk. He knew full well that the day would not hold the applause Wendy expected.

*****

“I wonder if today will be busy.” Amir tried to make small talk as he counted out the bills in the register. Business would open in a quarter of an hour. Amir always appreciated the serenity of the two-story department store before opening, just the quiet hum of the A/C and mediocre pop music.

“I like it when it’s busy,” a short woman with red hair replied behind him, sorting through the return racks of the previous night. “It’s what makes Sundays my favorite day to work…” Her voice trailed off. “Jeez, I really wish these had gotten done yesterday.”

“Well, I was the only one closing yesterday night, Wendy.”

She shook her head, resuming her activity with laser focus. Amir finished his counting and closed the drawer before a familiar voice blared  on the overhead speaker.

“Good morning everybody and happy Sunday! Antonio here. Today’s gonna be busy-busy! Expect a lot of Christmas gift returns, and remember to always give the money back to a store credit card whenever possible. We want to keep our customers! Our sales goal for today is fifty-five thousand, and we need everybody opening up at least one credit card today. Remember, if you open three cards in a day, you get a $25 voucher for our store! So keep it up! Have a great day, everybody.”

“Great day,” Amir rolled his eyes. Wendy’s attitude alone was enough to tick him off, but something about the credit card goal bothered him even more. How could they possibly expect them to open credit cards when all they did was handle returns?

With this in mind, he glared at Wendy. “I’m gonna take these returns downstairs.” Without waiting for a response, he began rolling the metal cart across the smooth, dirty tiling of the store.

Wendy sighed. She didn’t mean to be cranky, but her back hurt like hell. All the bending over and grabbing clothes did not go well with her chronic pain issues. She fiddled at the second register, patiently waiting for the minutes to pass so that doors would open and the day could sail by.

In the meantime, Antonio strolled around to the customer service desk doing his morning rounds. Wendy always forgot how tall he was in his starchy button-ups, towering over everybody in the store literally and figuratively with his generous dousing of drug store cologne.

“Hello, Wendy,” he curled his lips.

“Hi,” she nodded, trying to mind her own business.

“Glad to see you today after yesterday’s call out.” It was a pointed accusation, but Wendy took a sharp breath. He turned to face her. “You need to start showing me that you care about the company. I get it, life happens, but you need to figure it out. You can’t just call out all the time.”

Wendy stiffened. My child was sick, I needed to look after him, she thought. If it’s such an issue, you can always hire more people. You could be a little nicer, be a little more understanding. I do so much for the store. How dare you? You have kids of your own.

Of course, none of this made it out of her mouth. Instead, she swallowed her anger and mumbled an apology. She was never one to rock the boat unless the situation truly called for it. She could dance past him this time.

But he didn’t stop. “I mean Amir, well he’s on top of it. Hasn’t missed a single shift this month. Speaking of which, is he doing go-backs?”

Amir. She held back her laugh. “Yep.”

“Okay, perfect. Try to think about what I said. See you around.” And with that, he made his departure.

As Amir lugged the cart around, dropping off clothes at every department, he observed his colleagues. They all greeted him, and although they really had no choice but to be polite, he appreciated their efforts. It doesn’t cost much to be a good person, after all. Some people—he bit his lip—could really learn a lesson or two about being a generally pleasant person.

*****

Mindless scanning and how-can-I-help-you’s. Routine kicked in as activity steadily increased towards the afternoon. Amir always found the customers that would come by quite interesting. He could hardly hide his astonishment, for example, when a woman with a designer bag casually bought another purse, adding another $300 to her several-thousand-dollar credit card debt.

Another customer was being particularly difficult with Amir, insisting on receiving a refund for his shoes despite losing the receipt and having no other proof of purchase.

“I’m really sorry sir,” Amir tried to explain. “But we can’t give a refund without any kind of proof that you actually bought it.” He slid the shoebox across the counter.

This seemed to escalate the customer’s irritation, and he grunted out what seemed to be a racial epithet. And then suddenly out of the shadows, out of the shadows, Wendy butted in.

“Well, let me see if there’s anything I can do.”

She canceled the transaction and logged in with her credentials. Within seconds she had scanned the shoebox and handed him a gift card. He smirked, staring at Wendy a little too long before he made his exit.

“Why did you do that? We can’t just give people refunds whenever we want.”

“I’d rather have a happy customer. Imagine if he wanted to complain to the manager. That would’ve looked really bad.” Wendy raised her eyebrows at him as she tossed the shoes into the return basket behind them.

“Dude, I think you care too much about what Antonio might think. You know he can replace us whenever he wants, right?”

Wendy scowled. Easy enough to say when you’re his favorite. She let her self-control slip.

“Don’t be rude, Amir. What would you know?”

Amir’s eyes widened in offense, but he tried to pay it no mind. After all, there was finally a lull in activity and he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. Unfortunately, it was interrupted as quickly as it began. After one transaction, Wendy clapped her hands together and grinned. “Hit my credit card goal today! I was worried about that.”

Amir nodded—of course she was. Planet Earth would be doomed if she hadn’t met it. She kept going. “I hope Antonio sees how many I’ve been opening lately. It’s not easy at all.”

She was right, admittedly, but he refused to agree on principle.

Speak of the devil. Antonio walked over from his office, this time with a shoebox in his hand. Wendy seemed joyous when he approached her, but he just looked down at Wendy with furrowed eyebrows. “I saw you put this return in the adult’s shoe section.” He shook the box in front of her as if he were wagging his finger and plopped it into the returns basket. “It’s supposed to go to kids, though. You need to pay more attention.”

Amir was genuinely shocked. He and Antonio both could have easily made such a mistake themselves. Wendy seemed humiliated, especially when Antonio turned to Amir and offered a polite wave.

“Make sure to get your card for the day opened!”

We’re not meant to win, Amir concluded.

Antonio fled the scene once again, and Amir turned his attention towards Wendy, who was standing perfectly straight with her hands held behind her back. Just as he was about to say something, Wendy’s phone rang and she took it out of her pocket.

“Oh, I need to take this.” Her voice was softer than he had heard all day, and she swiped her finger. “Hi honey, how are you?” She walked away from the register.

Amir felt a chill go down his own spine. He remembered when he was a kid and his own mom would pick up his calls at work. He never really considered what the consequences were of stepping out to answer his frivolous concerns; she picked up the phone every time.

By the time Wendy made her way back looking nauseous, a customer had walked up to the counter. She was holding a couple hangers of baby clothes and had a frazzled look on her face.

 “How are you today?” Amir asked while she set her clothes down. Wendy stood off to the side, fiddling with some previously returned items of the day and keeping a watchful eye on him.

“Oh, I’m okay,” the woman let out with a deep sigh, mildly out of breath. “Just need to get some clothes for the baby, you know?” She gestured to the stroller beside her, her child sound asleep. “They grow so fast.” She gave a sheepish look.

Amir smiled and continued scanning her selected clearance items. “Alright, so it looks like your total’s gonna be $33.18.” He saw her eyes dart around for a split second before she pulled out a worn wallet and hesitantly inserted her card. After a few seconds, the pin pad beeped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Amir said, lowering his voice a little. “It didn’t seem to go through. Do you have another card you could use?”

She swallowed and nodded. “Yes sorry, let me try this one.” It declined again, and he could detect tears forming in her eyes. Taken aback, he stammered for a bit before springing into action.

“Give me one second, can you remove your card?”

He went back and began typing at the register, marking everything more than half off. Wendy looked on suspiciously from her side of the counter, pretending to hang up some returned dresses. She squinted at his computer before realizing that he was, in fact, giving her an enormous discount.

“Okay, can you try again?” Amir asked the woman. She nodded, looked at the total on the card reader, and almost yelped in relief.

“Oh, thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Amir nodded hurriedly. Her card went through this time, and he handed her the receipt as he wished her a good rest of the day.

“I’ve seen her in here before.” Wendy growled behind him.

“Oh really?” He had, too, but pretended otherwise.

“Yep. That woman is always trying to steal something. I’m surprised she even came to the counter today. Definitely putting up an act. I mean, if you can’t take care of them, then don’t have kids. Gosh.” She shook her head. “You’ve definitely seen her, she walks out with stuff all the time.”

Amir lowered his voice. “I mean, is it so bad?”

“Well the world can’t run on handouts.” She scoffed. “I’m gonna take my lunch break now, my back is killing me.”

He wanted to retaliate. How much better was Wendy, really? She was the cranky old woman who needlessly, constantly expressed her disdain with everybody. And with the blink of an eye, all of Amir’s earlier guilt disappeared.

As Amir ran the customer service desk by himself, it seemed to be the perfect time for the whole city to come in and line up at the counter. The surge became bad enough to where Amir had to call Antonio for help, and the two of them sped through each customer. Amir hoped his efficiency would be enough to rectify his lack of credit cards opened for the day. Being one of the fastest employees on the floor had to count for something, he reassured himself.

Wendy’s meal break, on the other hand, flew by, as she ran to a convenience store nearby to pick up cough syrup for her kid. He had complained that his cough got worse earlier on the phone and Wendy was now considering the reality that she would have to take yet another day off work so they could go to the doctor’s. She needed to get on good terms with Antonio. No question.

She calculated her moves like any good hard-working employee would. She teased out each step in her head, planning her monologues and reactions. Whatever it takes, she resolved. When she returned from her break and silently switched out with Amir, she began her whispers.

“Antonio, there’s something I need to tell you.” Her heart pulsed in her chest. Too late to turn back.

Antonio raised his eyebrows in mild intrigue. “Yes?”

With a hushed tone, she recounted what she saw. The recurring thief. Amir’s absurd discount. How she felt she needed to speak up.

She made her choice. “Well, thanks for letting me know,” Antonio replied. “I’ll take it from here.”

Wendy beamed, relieved that his perception of her might finally change. As he turned around to leave, barraging her once again with his cologne, he made an off-hand comment that wiped the joy off her face.

“Oh, and by the way, can you clean the kitchen section again? You missed a few spots.”

She blinked, dumbfounded. All she could muster was a silent nod, nausea washing over her once again.

*****

Amir’s meal break was more a chance to find time for himself than to eat. His routine was the same: eat a granola bar, put in headphones, and wander through the mall. As he meandered through the building, he turned his observations towards the anonymous swarms of people around him. He indulged his imagination and breathed story into the world around him. The dad holding a tiny paper bag with his young daughter by his side, for example, must have been looking for the perfect jewelry for his wife’s upcoming birthday.

But then he saw a woman who looked startlingly like the woman with the stroller. Was it her? He couldn’t tell. But the question was the same: did she also struggle to buy baby clothes? Or the dad, did he have a stable job?

These thoughts created a distinct uneasiness in Amir. He forced his attention towards the people his age that he saw, curious about the teens that were with their moms, speculating whether they would be off to college straight after high school. They seemed functional and middle class, able to buy clothes that he very well could not afford on his wage.

Money was dominating his thoughts once again. How he wished he was at college this year, but instead, he was saving up for copays and electricity bills. Nobody could understand what it’s like to be broke—certainly not those teens in their brand name clothing.

The crowds of people became suffocating, the smells of Cinnabon wafting through the whole dang place was overwhelming. In times of stress, Amir did what he normally did and pulled out his phone.

The line connected on the first ring, and he spoke. “Hey Mom.”

“Hi dear, how are you? Are you still at work? It’s quite noisy. Is everything okay?”

“Yep, yep. I’m on my break. How was your day?”

The two chatted for a while. Whenever he remembered, Amir tried to make some time to call his mom before leaving work in case she needed something from the grocery store or wanted him to buy something with his employee discount.

“So, Mom,” Amir swallowed. “I learned today how expensive baby clothes are. Was buying them ever…hard?” The word lingered on his breath.

“Clothes? Let’s see, oh yes, a lot of the time. You especially grew really fast, I needed a new size every week!” She laughed. “Oh, what a time, what a time. Why do you ask?”

Amir smiled. “Don’t worry about it. This might sound weird, but I kind of feel bad about that.”

“What, why? You have no reason to. It’s what moms do. Why are you thinking about this?”

Amir closed his eyes and nodded. “I don’t know, I just…” He stopped there. “I should get going now, my break is almost over. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He hung up and returned to the store, clocking in with his assigned employee number. He once again noticed Wendy’s gaze on him, though not exactly one of judgment. He returned the favor, and stared back at her, watching her massage her back. He asked if she was alright.

“Yeah.” Her mouth went dry. “Why do you ask?”

He shook his head. The rest of the evening was supposed to be quiet. Over the next hour, customers would be scarce, and before he knew it, he’d be closing up the registers for the night and be back on his way home. Home, how relieving. And yet, the silence of the store weighed on him more than usual, worsened by Wendy’s disheveled demeanor.

Just as Amir tried to dismiss the claustrophobia he felt, Antonio walked over from his office directly towards him. As Amir faced him and noticed Antonio’s cold eyes, stiff like his shirt, a lump formed in his throat.

“Can you come with me, please?”

Amir looked back at Wendy, who avoided his eyes. He craned towards Antonio, heart racing.

“Sure.”

The pair walked through the store to his office on the other side, the departments changing like the seasons. A kingdom of clothes and manufactured products.

*****

And like in any functioning empire, Amir was subject to punishment without trial. He hadn’t expected to get fired when Antonio brought him into his office, and on the commute back home, fury, humiliation, and shame stung his cheeks all at once.

No more copay for us, he supposed. He slammed the brakes, nearly running a red light. Wendy must be so, so proud of herself.

“Delusional,” he spat out. He unlocked his front door and kicked off his shoes.

What he didn’t know, however, was that as Wendy herself made it home that night, she realized that cough syrup wasn’t gonna cut it. Looking at her kid’s feverish eyes, her mind flashed with the image of Amir and all the times he came to work even when he seemed sick. But no, no time for that. How to cover the copay of the pediatrician, how, how, how? That’s what mattered. The stress whirled inside of her brain.

Dizzy, Amir tiptoed to his mom’s dusty room. Still at work, tenaciously waitressing. He broke down and slid down to the floor against the doorframe. He dialed the phone.

“Hi, Amir.”

He could choke out exactly two words, the old carpet scratching his feet.

“I’m sorry.”