The job that I mentioned landing in my last blog is at Tractor Supply Company (TSC). That is the actual name of the store, it isn't a co-op, which is a little confusing if you haven't ever seen a TSC. Our official uniform is a red vest over a t-shirt, jeans, and usually some kind of boot.
The boot phenomenon is a really good excuse to wear my cowboy boots, which didn't get much action in Juneau. I wore them tonight, actually and my feet feel great. It is kind of funny what shoes I prefer. My Merrels are more suited to a day walking around a city or every day ware; my Keens rate about as well as the Merrels, but have hiking insoles in them, so they aren't really the best choice either. (You all know my fascination with shoes, so you will just have to forgive the pair by pair comparison of my closet.) The beautiful sneaks that have never been worn outside of Pavitt's would be destroyed by the dust. All my other shoes are just not suitable (either XtraTuffs or high heels.) This all to say that my men's Justin cowboy work boots with the techno crepe, slip resistant sole are the best for working at a semi-cowboy store. How fitting.
If you have never visited a TSC, I highly recommend it. They carry around 40,000 items. Things range from dog treats/food/toys, to air compressors, hardware, paint, house decor, clothing, footwear, bird seed, fencing, llama food, chicken wire, plumbing, heating, truck, trailer, welding, power tools, electric and gas engines, equine, junk food, stuffed animals/toys, and last but not least tractor stuff. It is a pretty darn fun place to work. I get to say things on the intercom like "Load-out on the side lot for two bundles of T-posts, a red six food tube gate, and a pallet of rolled oats." (repeat) It makes me sound very official, except for tonight. Have you ever tried to say "Whole Oat Horse Feed" three times fast, over the intercom? It came out some thing like Whorl-ort-ors-eed. Nice.
For my second most embarrassing moment of the day.... This may only happen Down South, but sometimes people answer their phones, "Mule Barn, this is Jack." (You know, like a play-off of jack ass.) Anyhow, I thought my assistant manager was calling my check stand from her office because I caught the phone ringing just as I came in from an errand outside. Since she has a pretty good sense of humor, I cleverly answered, "Mule Barn, this is Jack." The customer on the other end of the line didn't even miss a beat. He asked what time we were open to and told me me thanks without even snickering--completely proving that I was, in fact, a jack ass.
PS It snowed here yesterday. Little fine ice pellets. It took hours for the ground to cool down enough for a fine dusting of the stuff to stick around until about 10 this morning. Next time it happens I'll take pictures. Until then, all you people in Alaska just envision what it would look like if you sprinkled a bag of flour in your front yard, and enjoy shoveling the real stuff. :)
