#the can badge next to him was a freebie included when i bought him from the tales-of-shop blog (now deactivated rip) but that was also swee

[windor-truffle]

the asbel shrine grows...

[malex-love-letters]

We’ll Wish This Never Ends

This is a prompt fill for @mander3-swish who requested #45 - I can’t believe you actually bought that.  Thank you for the prompt, I hope you like it.  I made you some art too because I’ve always loved your blog, and it’s so lovely to see a fellow Marvey shipper over here. x

When Alex left for the airforce, they made no big promises or commitments to each other.  The one thing they agreed on was that they wanted to keep in touch.  They were family, after all.

So, Alex emails when he can.  Sometimes it's daily emails when he’s at the base, and things are quiet. On a few occasions, when he’s in the field, it’s over a month before Michael gets an email.  Relief can't even begin to describe how he feels, knowing Alex is okay.

Every day like clockwork Michael checks for an e-mail, the first thing of a morning while sipping his coffee at the Evans’s.  Isobel sits opposite him at the breakfast bar, eyes and heightened senses focused on her brother, making sure he’s okay.

In more recent times, this daily ritual has included a business meeting with Isobel, who volunteered to be Michael’s bookkeeper.  He started a signage business from the ground up a year after Alex left to keep himself occupied. It wasn't an easy task, his first two jobs we're freebies for Mimi and Mr Ortecho.  Soon, word of the talented sign maker spread further afield, and in under a year, he had a steady flow of business, with customers from Texas to Washington.  A few months back he’d gotten so busy he'd taken on Sanders grandson, Ben, as an apprentice to lighten his workload.

On the fourteenth day of March 2011, he finally gets the e-mail he’d been dreaming of.  Alex has been granted post-deployment leave for two months.  His flight is due to land at Albuquerque International in a week.  Michael’s hands shake as he replies.  He’ll be there to pick him up.

Isobel is the only person Michael tells about Alex coming home.  He’s in a mad flap, rambling about a road trip and that one week isn't enough time to make everything perfect for Alex’s arrival.

His sister rolls her eyes at him and pulls him into a tight hug.  She gives Michael one job, and one job only.  Get a map and pick a destination.

She handles the business, shuffling a few long term customers around, knowing that Ben can cover the rest.  She has the airstream cleaned, then stocks it with food, a whole swag of camping paraphernalia, plus some casual clothes for Alex.  Lastly, she lies.  Everyone in Roswell is under the impression that Michael is going to Texas for long-awaited knee surgery.

Michael could kiss her, the last thing he needs is Sergeant Manes raining on their parade.  He tries to thank her for everything, but he gets choked up.  She takes pity on him and tells him she gave herself a pay rise for her efforts.

On the day Alex arrives, he isn't nervous, he’s excited.  It’s been over two years.

He stands in the terminal jigging from foot to foot. As the last few passengers leave the plane, he spots a beret sporting the well-known falcon badge, behind them, and his heart pounds against his ribcage.

When he finally sees him in the flesh, walking toward him; completely intact and smiling, relief almost drowns him.  His hands fly out to meet Alex, touching him and reassuring himself that he’s okay.  The way Alex looks up at him as he fusses hasn't changed.  A fond reserved smile, but it's those big brown eyes that speak volumes.  Everything has changed, but at the same time, nothing’s changed.

”You miss me?” Alex asks.

”Not as much as you missed me.” Michael replies, slapping his shoulder.

There’s no big scene made.  They grab the luggage off the carousel, Michael noticing just how much Alex’s body has changed.  He's stronger and broader, and Michael’s very into it.

They walk the almost kilometre to where the airstream is parked. Alex drops his bag and pulls Michael into a hug.

”I can't believe you actually bought that,” he says fondly into Michael’s ear, ”You've done a fantastic job with your business.”

Michael blushes against Alex’s shoulder, but the truth is he’s pretty damn proud of himself too, he’d managed to buy them a home, a safe space to be together.

”So I take it we're not heading back to Roswell?” Alex asks, as Michael unlocks the door of the airstream and places Alex’s bags inside.

”How do you feel about Zion?  It's about 500 miles away; there’s this spot next to a lake.”

Alex’s smile reaches his eyes, ”Sounds perfect.”

Even though they have kept in contact, there is still a lot to catch up on.  Michael wasn't sure that Alex would want to talk about all the things he'd seen, good and bad, but Alex is an open book, and he tells Michael everything.  Alex is also eager to hear more about Michael's business and how Liz and Maria have been.  When they arrive at Zion RV park late that evening, Alex has completely debriefed, and he’s fallen asleep against the passenger side window.

Michael gently wakes him, and they move to the airstreams bed.  Both of them falling asleep almost immediately.

After a full nights sleep, something neither of them has had in their time apart, Michael shouts them a greasy breakfast at a local retro cafe.  It's like being on a first date again — both men grinning at each other as they nudge knees under the table.  At times Michael finds himself just staring at Alex, drinking him in, just so fucking grateful to have him sitting here across from him.  Michael shows Alex his map and gives him a run-down on where they are going to be camping, and when they are both so full they can hardly walk, they head back to the truck, and head for their temporary home.

"Wow," they both say in unison when they see the site.  They exit the truck and walk amongst the stunning Aspen trees that line the tranquil looking lake.  They have their own jetty with a private speed boat that Isobel has hired off a local.  From the end of the jetty, they have a magnificent view of the National Parks sandstone cliffs.

"This is perfect," Alex praises, joining Michael at the end of the jetty, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"It is," Michael agrees, letting Alex take his weight.

Alex spins him around.  "I missed you," Alex admits, pushing a wayward curl from Michael's eye.  Micheal's hands come up to touch his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones.

"I love you, Alex," he replies, eyes going glassy as Alex presses their lips together and the whole world falls away.  

-

They spend their day's hiking over rugged terrain, swimming and fishing, before falling into bed in the warmth of the afternoon sun and making love.  It's bliss.

Michael thanks his lucky stars that he gets to have this time with Alex.  And he prays to a God he doesn't believe in, that it's not the last time.

[bigyack-com]

Modern Black Friday Work Force: Postal Clerk, Influencer, Robot

A postal employee who processes one Amazon return after another. A part-time stockroom clerk who works spotty hours for minimum wage and no health benefits. A social media influencer who pitches products to her 83,000 Instagram followers. A robot that scans the shelves at Walmart. Meet America’s retail work force in 2019. Nearly five million people are employed in traditional retail jobs. Many still work in stores, selling stuff, but the reality is that today’s retail industry is powered by a variety of staff employees, gig workers and artificial intelligence. The changes reflect shifts in what shoppers want — lower prices and more convenience. Shopping, even in stores, now involves technology that is altering the way we interact with the sales staff. Here are six stories of modern-day retail work. — The Luggage Salesman — Sterling Lewis, Macy’s, Manhattan There are not many retail workers left like Mr. Lewis. He started at Macy’s 37 years ago and he’s still selling luggage in the Herald Square store. Retailing was not the career Mr. Lewis expected to pursue when he moved to Brooklyn from Trinidad at age 13. He attended college briefly, but dropped out when his son was born and he needed a job. He went to work in the Macy’s stockroom, racking up overtime to support his family. “You do what you have to do,” he said. Today, Mr. Lewis earns about $70,000 a year, which includes wages and 2 percent commissions on each item he sells. It can be tempting, he says, to immediately steer shoppers to a Tumi bag that costs $1,000, but that only leads to more returns. “I start low and come up,” he said. “I want the customer to say ‘show me something better.’” Mr. Lewis, 63, met his wife while she was working in the shoe department. Together, the couple saved up enough money for a down payment on a house in Jackson Heights on a corner lot with a backyard big enough for three fig trees, a grape arbor and vegetable beds with sweet peppers, garlic, collard greens and strawberries. Mr. Lewis wears a gold hoop earring in each ear and a blue lanyard around his neck to show off his membership in the Retail, Wholesale and Department Store Union, which he credits with providing him and his colleagues with financial security. Would he ever encourage his 3-year-old grandson to work in a store one day? “Hell no,” Mr. Lewis says. “You can’t grow in retail anymore.” — The Robot — Wall-E, Walmart, Phillipsburg, N.J. Wall-E starts the day at 4 a.m., rolling through the aisles, scanning the shelves and looking for “outs” — any item that needs restocking. The robot has a long white neck, bright spotlights and 15 cameras that snap thousands of photos, which are transmitted directly to its colleagues’ hand-held devices telling them exactly which shelves need restocking. After it finishes scanning, Wall-E parks itself in a remote corner of the store, next to a bright blue sign that says “Our People Make the Difference,” and takes a “nap” to recharge its batteries. Wall-E works two shifts, seven days a week, in the Walmart supercenter in Phillipsburg, a former railroad and industrial hub on the Delaware River. Designed by the robotics company Bossa Nova, Wall-E is one of 350 robots at Walmart stores across the country. Their purpose is to free up employees to interact with customers or focus on other initiatives like Walmart’s push to deliver groceries to customers ordering online. This month, the store in Phillipsburg hired 22 employees and it is looking to hire 25 more. Employees have embraced the robot, said Tom McGowan, the store manager, because it performs a tedious task no one likes — cataloging out-of-stock items. (Walmart allows store employees to name each robot. Wall-E wears a name badge like every other worker.) Customers have different reactions: A few children have tried to ride the robots, while many adults ignore the devices and keep shopping. Some ask whether robots are taking jobs away from humans. “I tell them ‘No, I actually have openings,’” Mr. McGowan said. “‘Would you like to apply?’” — The Stockroom Worker Nevin Muni, T.J. Maxx, Queens For Ms. Muni, life as a part-time worker in a stockroom in Astoria can be unpredictable. Most weeks, Ms. Muni is scheduled to work either 12 or 16 hours, but she is often asked to come in on her days off. Ms. Muni, who earns the local minimum wage of $15 an hour, never turns down work. “I have to make ends meet,” she said. “Whatever job I find, I take.” An immigrant from Turkey, Ms. Muni, 52, takes multiple train lines to reach the store, leaving her house in Elmhurst, Queens, and her husband, who is recovering from a stroke, before 6 a.m. Hoping to save money one recent month, Ms. Muni bought a 30-day MetroCard instead of paying for single rides. But she ended up losing money on the card because the extra shifts never materialized that month. She has no health insurance, but manages to be resourceful. She recently had a cavity filled by dental students at New York University. Ms. Muni moved to New York eight years ago and recently joined the Retail Action Project, a worker group and job training program affiliated with the retail employees union. She has degrees in media economics and human resources management from a university in Turkey. But those skills are not needed in the cramped, windowless stockroom on the third floor of the T.J. Maxx., behind the men’s underwear rack and the bin of Christmas-themed pillows. Ms. Muni unpacks boxes from delivery trucks and arranges last season’s pajamas and dress shirts on hangers, for display in the store. Her co-workers in the stockroom include women from Peru, Ecuador, Morocco and the Dominican Republic. “We laugh. We talk about family,” she said. “My job is hard, but I love these friends.” — The Postal Employee — Eric. C. Wilson, post office, Greenwich, Conn. Mr. Wilson has watched the internet upend how Americans shop and communicate from a unique vantage point: the service window of the post office where he has worked for more than 30 years. When Mr. Wilson, 58, started in the business, his job revolved around processing letters, cards and flat parcels. But those have fallen off in the age of email and text messages, he said. Now, his window is bustling with a specific type of package: returns of online purchases, which have become an enormous part of his days. “We get hundreds and hundreds of those, especially this time of year,” Mr. Wilson, a father of two, said in a telephone interview as he drove to his home in Stamford, Conn. The change is a side effect of the boom in online shopping, which results in far more returns than purchases made at brick-and-mortar stores. It has been a boon for post offices and employees like Mr. Wilson. “At one time, they thought the internet was actually going to kill the Postal Service, but it’s been very helpful because of the way people order packages online now,” he said. Mr. Wilson’s post office will operate four or five service windows — up from its typical two — between Thanksgiving weekend and Dec. 24, he said. Sending packages to Amazon is a shift from handling letters but Mr. Wilson is not sentimental about it. “I don’t really miss it at all,” he said. “You just adjust to what the change is.” — The Influencer — While Ms. Johnson doesn’t technically work in retailing, she’s one of the many social media mavens who have become central to the industry by making product pitches to her roughly 83,000 Instagram followers and 355,000 YouTube subscribers. Throughout November — which Ms. Johnson, 37, calls “Black Friday month” — she estimates that she will participate in about 20 sponsored campaigns, in which brands pay her for certain promotional posts. She also earns commissions from retailers like Best Buy and Target when her followers click on a link she provides and buy an item. “At this point, what I’ve created has turned into a media and marketing company,” said Ms. Johnson, who lives outside Salt Lake City. “I’ve talked to multiple brands who said they don’t spend as much money on TV ads and have put it all into marketing with influencers or online marketing because they just get a bigger return.” Ms. Johnson, whose posts sometimes feature her 10-year-old daughter and 7-year-old son, started blogging about bargains a decade ago on a site, now sold, called Freebies 2 Deals, as a way to work from home. On Instagram, her calls to buy cardigans on Amazon and toys at Target are interspersed with date night selfies and relatable fare about parenting. “The people who follow me or watch my stories feel like we’re best friends,” she said. When she recommends a great deal or product they love, “it builds another layer of trust.” — The Quasi-Fulfillment Worker — Sherika McGibbon, Zara, Manhattan When Ms. McGibbon started working at Zara six years ago, customers seemed to have far more patience. “Today many people are in a hurry,” Ms. McGibbon said. “They don’t take time to touch and feel the material. They just want to buy it and leave.” Ms. McGibbon, who has worked all over the retail industry, including at the Gap and the now-defunct Daffy’s, attributes the change to online shopping, which prioritizes convenience over the experience. E-commerce has also altered Ms. McGibbon’s daily routine and turned her Zara near Union Square into a miniature fulfillment center. Ms. McGibbon, who earns about $16 an hour, spends the first part of the morning on the sales floor interacting with customers. After lunch, she reports to the stockroom and packs FedEx boxes until her shift ends at 5 p.m. The delivery service picks up online orders twice a day. Ms. McGibbon, 31, usually packs about 50 such orders a day. During the Black Friday weekend, her store expects to ship 2,000 orders. A single mother raising a 12-year-old son, Ms. McGibbon says she still enjoys the challenge of helping customers put together an outfit. As a hobby, she advises friends and family how to dress. “Stylin’ by Sherika,” she calls her consultancy. She would like to turn it into a business someday. “Retail is fast,” she said over the throbbing music at the Fifth Avenue store. “There is a lot of adrenaline. But if it ever gets slow, I got to go.” Source link Read the full article

[biofunmy]

Modern Black Friday Work Force: Postal Clerk, Influencer, Robot

A postal employee who processes one Amazon return after another. A part-time stockroom clerk who works spotty hours for minimum wage and no health benefits. A social media influencer who pitches products to her 83,000 Instagram followers. A robot that scans the shelves at Walmart.

Meet America’s retail work force in 2019. Nearly five million people are employed in traditional retail jobs. Many still work in stores, selling stuff, but the reality is that today’s retail industry is powered by a variety of staff employees, gig workers and artificial intelligence.

The changes reflect shifts in what shoppers want — lower prices and more convenience. Shopping, even in stores, now involves technology that is altering the way we interact with the sales staff. Here are six stories of modern-day retail work.

— The Luggage Salesman —

Sterling Lewis, Macy’s, Manhattan

There are not many retail workers left like Mr. Lewis. He started at Macy’s 37 years ago and he’s still selling luggage in the Herald Square store.

Retailing was not the career Mr. Lewis expected to pursue when he moved to Brooklyn from Trinidad at age 13. He attended college briefly, but dropped out when his son was born and he needed a job. He went to work in the Macy’s stockroom, racking up overtime to support his family. “You do what you have to do,” he said.

Today, Mr. Lewis earns about $70,000 a year, which includes wages and 2 percent commissions on each item he sells.

It can be tempting, he says, to immediately steer shoppers to a Tumi bag that costs $1,000, but that only leads to more returns. “I start low and come up,” he said. “I want the customer to say ‘show me something better.’”

Mr. Lewis, 63, met his wife while she was working in the shoe department. Together, the couple saved up enough money for a down payment on a house in Jackson Heights on a corner lot with a backyard big enough for three fig trees, a grape arbor and vegetable beds with sweet peppers, garlic, collard greens and strawberries.

Mr. Lewis wears a gold hoop earring in each ear and a blue lanyard around his neck to show off his membership in the Retail, Wholesale and Department Store Union, which he credits with providing him and his colleagues with financial security.

Would he ever encourage his 3-year-old grandson to work in a store one day? “Hell no,” Mr. Lewis says. “You can’t grow in retail anymore.”

— The Robot —

Wall-E, Walmart, Phillipsburg, N.J.

Wall-E starts the day at 4 a.m., rolling through the aisles, scanning the shelves and looking for “outs” — any item that needs restocking.

The robot has a long white neck, bright spotlights and 15 cameras that snap thousands of photos, which are transmitted directly to its colleagues’ hand-held devices telling them exactly which shelves need restocking.

After it finishes scanning, Wall-E parks itself in a remote corner of the store, next to a bright blue sign that says “Our People Make the Difference,” and takes a “nap” to recharge its batteries.

Wall-E works two shifts, seven days a week, in the Walmart supercenter in Phillipsburg, a former railroad and industrial hub on the Delaware River.

Designed by the robotics company Bossa Nova, Wall-E is one of 350 robots at Walmart stores across the country. Their purpose is to free up employees to interact with customers or focus on other initiatives like Walmart’s push to deliver groceries to customers ordering online. This month, the store in Phillipsburg hired 22 employees and it is looking to hire 25 more.

Employees have embraced the robot, said Tom McGowan, the store manager, because it performs a tedious task no one likes — cataloging out-of-stock items. (Walmart allows store employees to name each robot. Wall-E wears a name badge like every other worker.)

Customers have different reactions: A few children have tried to ride the robots, while many adults ignore the devices and keep shopping. Some ask whether robots are taking jobs away from humans.

“I tell them ‘No, I actually have openings,’” Mr. McGowan said. “‘Would you like to apply?’”

—

The Stockroom Worker

Nevin Muni, T.J. Maxx, Queens

For Ms. Muni, life as a part-time worker in a stockroom in Astoria can be unpredictable.

Most weeks, Ms. Muni is scheduled to work either 12 or 16 hours, but she is often asked to come in on her days off. Ms. Muni, who earns the local minimum wage of $15 an hour, never turns down work. “I have to make ends meet,” she said. “Whatever job I find, I take.”

An immigrant from Turkey, Ms. Muni, 52, takes multiple train lines to reach the store, leaving her house in Elmhurst, Queens, and her husband, who is recovering from a stroke, before 6 a.m. Hoping to save money one recent month, Ms. Muni bought a 30-day MetroCard instead of paying for single rides. But she ended up losing money on the card because the extra shifts never materialized that month.

She has no health insurance, but manages to be resourceful. She recently had a cavity filled by dental students at New York University.

Ms. Muni moved to New York eight years ago and recently joined the Retail Action Project, a worker group and job training program affiliated with the retail employees union. She has degrees in media economics and human resources management from a university in Turkey. But those skills are not needed in the cramped, windowless stockroom on the third floor of the T.J. Maxx., behind the men’s underwear rack and the bin of Christmas-themed pillows.

Ms. Muni unpacks boxes from delivery trucks and arranges last season’s pajamas and dress shirts on hangers, for display in the store. Her co-workers in the stockroom include women from Peru, Ecuador, Morocco and the Dominican Republic.

“We laugh. We talk about family,” she said. “My job is hard, but I love these friends.”

—

The Postal Employee

—

Eric. C. Wilson, post office, Greenwich, Conn.

Mr. Wilson has watched the internet upend how Americans shop and communicate from a unique vantage point: the service window of the post office where he has worked for more than 30 years.

When Mr. Wilson, 58, started in the business, his job revolved around processing letters, cards and flat parcels. But those have fallen off in the age of email and text messages, he said. Now, his window is bustling with a specific type of package: returns of online purchases, which have become an enormous part of his days.

“We get hundreds and hundreds of those, especially this time of year,” Mr. Wilson, a father of two, said in a telephone interview as he drove to his home in Stamford, Conn.

The change is a side effect of the boom in online shopping, which results in far more returns than purchases made at brick-and-mortar stores. It has been a boon for post offices and employees like Mr. Wilson.

“At one time, they thought the internet was actually going to kill the Postal Service, but it’s been very helpful because of the way people order packages online now,” he said.

Mr. Wilson’s post office will operate four or five service windows — up from its typical two — between Thanksgiving weekend and Dec. 24, he said. Sending packages to Amazon is a shift from handling letters but Mr. Wilson is not sentimental about it.

“I don’t really miss it at all,” he said. “You just adjust to what the change is.”

—

The Influencer

—

While Ms. Johnson doesn’t technically work in retailing, she’s one of the many social media mavens who have become central to the industry by making product pitches to her roughly 83,000 Instagram followers and 355,000 YouTube subscribers.

Throughout November — which Ms. Johnson, 37, calls “Black Friday month” — she estimates that she will participate in about 20 sponsored campaigns, in which brands pay her for certain promotional posts. She also earns commissions from retailers like Best Buy and Target when her followers click on a link she provides and buy an item.

“At this point, what I’ve created has turned into a media and marketing company,” said Ms. Johnson, who lives outside Salt Lake City. “I’ve talked to multiple brands who said they don’t spend as much money on TV ads and have put it all into marketing with influencers or online marketing because they just get a bigger return.”

Ms. Johnson, whose posts sometimes feature her 10-year-old daughter and 7-year-old son, started blogging about bargains a decade ago on a site, now sold, called Freebies 2 Deals, as a way to work from home.

On Instagram, her calls to buy cardigans on Amazon and toys at Target are interspersed with date night selfies and relatable fare about parenting.

“The people who follow me or watch my stories feel like we’re best friends,” she said. When she recommends a great deal or product they love, “it builds another layer of trust.”

—

The Quasi-Fulfillment Worker

—

Sherika McGibbon, Zara, Manhattan

When Ms. McGibbon started working at Zara six years ago, customers seemed to have far more patience.

“Today many people are in a hurry,” Ms. McGibbon said. “They don’t take time to touch and feel the material. They just want to buy it and leave.”

Ms. McGibbon, who has worked all over the retail industry, including at the Gap and the now-defunct Daffy’s, attributes the change to online shopping, which prioritizes convenience over the experience.

E-commerce has also altered Ms. McGibbon’s daily routine and turned her Zara near Union Square into a miniature fulfillment center. Ms. McGibbon, who earns about $16 an hour, spends the first part of the morning on the sales floor interacting with customers. After lunch, she reports to the stockroom and packs FedEx boxes until her shift ends at 5 p.m. The delivery service picks up online orders twice a day.

Ms. McGibbon, 31, usually packs about 50 such orders a day. During the Black Friday weekend, her store expects to ship 2,000 orders.

A single mother raising a 12-year-old son, Ms. McGibbon says she still enjoys the challenge of helping customers put together an outfit. As a hobby, she advises friends and family how to dress. “Stylin’ by Sherika,” she calls her consultancy. She would like to turn it into a business someday.

“Retail is fast,” she said over the throbbing music at the Fifth Avenue store. “There is a lot of adrenaline. But if it ever gets slow, I got to go.”

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