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Back from the Dead
Jan. 31st, 2004 03:23 pmTo my Faithful Readership of 5 (or so), I apologize for my absence. I didn't mean to alarm those of you who noticed I had disappeared.
I have just undergone the hell that is RGIS January (or at least the last two weeks of it). For approximately 12 years of my life beginning back in college I worked for RGIS Inventory Specialists, until seemingly overnight I became burnt out and within a week had found another job (this, obviously, was before the George W. Economic Golden Age). Finding my current transcription job's wages inadequate to keep me in the lifestyle to which I had become accustomed, I returned to the inventory as a part time source of funds and found it infinitely more tolerable on a 3-times weekly basis or so as opposed to every single day. However, in January I take time off from my slave-wage transcription job because January is traditionally the busiest month for retail inventory, being after Christmas, so I can work myself into the ground and make a hella lot of money.
For anyone who doesn't know what I am talking about and wishes they did, our company is hired by retail stores to take inventory for them through the use of tiny computers (basically glorified calculators) we wear on belts that can capture any information the customer wants, from a simple retail dollar amount to scanning their barcodes and capturing quantities for stock replenishment (geez, I am good. I should write the marketing video for us). We do everything from Walmart, Home Depot and Target to mom-and-pop stores and military bases (which is what we did this past week, as a matter of fact) and almost everything in between that you can imagine. If they sell it, we count it (not our official motto or anything. Actually ours is a lot more boring, something like "Accuracy is our primary concern." Just doesn't pop, if you ask me.)
Here I am in all my counting glory, a security photo given to me by the store manager:
After 12 years I don't think I am blowing my own horn too much to say that I am damn good at taking inventory. I can see quantities of up to 7 in one quick glance (or 12 if the product is arranged properly), whereas mere mortals do that annoying air-pointing counting thing (or worse, have to actually physically touch each item while counting) to arrive at the same number some 30 seconds later. I can do 12 and 24 times tables in my head, those being the most popular case quantities stuff is shipped in. I can do 10K in my sleep (and sometimes do), and on a daily basis impress someone new with my ability to key furiously on the machine while carrying on a complete conversation with someone. Counting is so second nature after 12 years that it literally is no longer a conscious activity for me to perform. I can understand that this might be impossible for store personnel to believe, while at the same time being continually infuriated by them assuming I am screwing up if I am talking while counting. This is probably the reason for this entry, the insult we suffer at the hands of store people.
As an example: for the past two weeks we have been doing a large chain of department stores, Kohl's, similar to JC Penneys or Mervyn's. Our machines have two programs for scanning merchandise. There is the very popular "auto-one" program, meaning when we scan the barcode, the machine automatically enters a quantity of one. (The poor saps who are relegated to this program are affectionately called "laser losers" by some of us veterans. Though obviously not to their faces). The second program allows us to key in a quantity after scanning (more suitable for those of us with experience who know what we are doing). It should be obvious to even the inventory-illiterate that each program has its merits depending on what you are counting. For instance, auto-one is very useful in clothing areas where everything changes by size, color, etc. However, it is a definite drawback when counting a stack of (very breakable) plates. Sadly, the sensible application of each type of program seems to be lost on most store managers, who slavishly adhere to procedures written by men in suits in large offices who never set foot within 20 miles of an inventory. Their procedures only want us counting towels (and only a certain brand of towels, at that) with multi-quantity, and everything else in the store as auto-one. They think this is the way to eliminate "batching," counting things as the same that aren't. I have seen areas designated for auto-one counting simply because they have red candles and blue candles, and apparently someone somewhere is afraid that we will not notice the difference and count them all as blue. That is how insulting this is. And trust me, you do not know frustration or mind-numbing boredom until you are forced to scan a stack of 40 placemats one at a time, knowing damn well the whole time that they are all. exactly. the same. Some of us are of the opinion that trained monkeys could handle the auto-one task and work far more cheaply. If you ask me, counting things auto-one is the refuge of the poorly-prepped store that is too lazy to straighten their shelves and put similar items together where they belong.
In all fairness, the inventory job is a "no experience required" position and we get our share of morons who couldn't handle the complicated task of flipping burgers. But I am among a small core of auditors who have been around for years; we know what we are doing, and more importantly take a certain degree of pride in our work, and invariably we are the ones assigned to count multiple areas, because we aren't colorblind and we do know when the product changes and can count quickly and effectively and extremely accurately. But the store people have the habit of seeing us as no different from the "laser losers," who truthfully probably couldn't do this. On the other hand, they are hardly in a position to throw stones. If I had a dollar for every time I overheard store people recounting us and holding debates like, "Well, I counted it twice and came up with 63 and 62, but Mark got 64," that would be a nice little bonus in my paycheck. No offense to retail personnel, but they are paid to help customers and sell things. We are paid to count. It is right there in the company name, "Inventory Specialists." They hire us to come and count, and then assume at every turn that we don't know how to count. I will never understand this fact in a million years.
We did six Kohl's stores over the last two weeks, and by the time we got to the last one today, I had just about had my fill. In every single store we had the same arguments to get them to let us count the logical multiple quantity areas that way. I felt so bad for our manager who was running them; all I had to do was point out the problem areas to her, she had to talk to the store manager and fight an often losing battle. But the highlight of the whole week was last night. We were counting in towels, which we had been doing for two weeks. The areas had large pink signs warning us that there were different sizes of towels in the bin, which you would think they would realize we know after doing five of these. We were chattering with each other as we counted, and I mistakenly counted a hand towel as a facecloth, and thinking aloud commented on that being wrong. One of the store women came running up and said to me, "Be careful! You've got bath sheets, hand towels and facecloths in there." She was reading it from the warning sign, pointing to each word for me like a teacher at a chalkboard. Oh, no she didn't!!! I was so insulted and so furious, I said to her, "Thank you, I know that. This is the sixth Kohl's I have done. Not to mention I have been reading since I was 5." Strangely, I didn't see too much more of her after that. The thing is, a lot of store people treat us with about as much respect as they would give a floor sweeper, failing to realize that we are not simply auditors, we are also potential customers, and if they piss us off enough, we will absolutely refuse to shop in their store. In stores like Kohl's with a large crew, that could mean up to 50 alienated customers. I have been in stores where I loved their stuff, but they treated us with such contempt that I never set foot in there again. Word to the wise if you ever hire a service to do your inventory...we are people too, not mindless, idiotic drones. Give us a little bit of credit.
So January is over. I worked a paltry 60 hours the first week I worked. This past week I put in 71 hours, which didn't leave a lot of time for journaling. But I am done now, rich temporarily, and back. And really, really sick of counting stuff.
-=Lainey=-
I have just undergone the hell that is RGIS January (or at least the last two weeks of it). For approximately 12 years of my life beginning back in college I worked for RGIS Inventory Specialists, until seemingly overnight I became burnt out and within a week had found another job (this, obviously, was before the George W. Economic Golden Age). Finding my current transcription job's wages inadequate to keep me in the lifestyle to which I had become accustomed, I returned to the inventory as a part time source of funds and found it infinitely more tolerable on a 3-times weekly basis or so as opposed to every single day. However, in January I take time off from my slave-wage transcription job because January is traditionally the busiest month for retail inventory, being after Christmas, so I can work myself into the ground and make a hella lot of money.
For anyone who doesn't know what I am talking about and wishes they did, our company is hired by retail stores to take inventory for them through the use of tiny computers (basically glorified calculators) we wear on belts that can capture any information the customer wants, from a simple retail dollar amount to scanning their barcodes and capturing quantities for stock replenishment (geez, I am good. I should write the marketing video for us). We do everything from Walmart, Home Depot and Target to mom-and-pop stores and military bases (which is what we did this past week, as a matter of fact) and almost everything in between that you can imagine. If they sell it, we count it (not our official motto or anything. Actually ours is a lot more boring, something like "Accuracy is our primary concern." Just doesn't pop, if you ask me.)
Here I am in all my counting glory, a security photo given to me by the store manager:
After 12 years I don't think I am blowing my own horn too much to say that I am damn good at taking inventory. I can see quantities of up to 7 in one quick glance (or 12 if the product is arranged properly), whereas mere mortals do that annoying air-pointing counting thing (or worse, have to actually physically touch each item while counting) to arrive at the same number some 30 seconds later. I can do 12 and 24 times tables in my head, those being the most popular case quantities stuff is shipped in. I can do 10K in my sleep (and sometimes do), and on a daily basis impress someone new with my ability to key furiously on the machine while carrying on a complete conversation with someone. Counting is so second nature after 12 years that it literally is no longer a conscious activity for me to perform. I can understand that this might be impossible for store personnel to believe, while at the same time being continually infuriated by them assuming I am screwing up if I am talking while counting. This is probably the reason for this entry, the insult we suffer at the hands of store people.
As an example: for the past two weeks we have been doing a large chain of department stores, Kohl's, similar to JC Penneys or Mervyn's. Our machines have two programs for scanning merchandise. There is the very popular "auto-one" program, meaning when we scan the barcode, the machine automatically enters a quantity of one. (The poor saps who are relegated to this program are affectionately called "laser losers" by some of us veterans. Though obviously not to their faces). The second program allows us to key in a quantity after scanning (more suitable for those of us with experience who know what we are doing). It should be obvious to even the inventory-illiterate that each program has its merits depending on what you are counting. For instance, auto-one is very useful in clothing areas where everything changes by size, color, etc. However, it is a definite drawback when counting a stack of (very breakable) plates. Sadly, the sensible application of each type of program seems to be lost on most store managers, who slavishly adhere to procedures written by men in suits in large offices who never set foot within 20 miles of an inventory. Their procedures only want us counting towels (and only a certain brand of towels, at that) with multi-quantity, and everything else in the store as auto-one. They think this is the way to eliminate "batching," counting things as the same that aren't. I have seen areas designated for auto-one counting simply because they have red candles and blue candles, and apparently someone somewhere is afraid that we will not notice the difference and count them all as blue. That is how insulting this is. And trust me, you do not know frustration or mind-numbing boredom until you are forced to scan a stack of 40 placemats one at a time, knowing damn well the whole time that they are all. exactly. the same. Some of us are of the opinion that trained monkeys could handle the auto-one task and work far more cheaply. If you ask me, counting things auto-one is the refuge of the poorly-prepped store that is too lazy to straighten their shelves and put similar items together where they belong.
In all fairness, the inventory job is a "no experience required" position and we get our share of morons who couldn't handle the complicated task of flipping burgers. But I am among a small core of auditors who have been around for years; we know what we are doing, and more importantly take a certain degree of pride in our work, and invariably we are the ones assigned to count multiple areas, because we aren't colorblind and we do know when the product changes and can count quickly and effectively and extremely accurately. But the store people have the habit of seeing us as no different from the "laser losers," who truthfully probably couldn't do this. On the other hand, they are hardly in a position to throw stones. If I had a dollar for every time I overheard store people recounting us and holding debates like, "Well, I counted it twice and came up with 63 and 62, but Mark got 64," that would be a nice little bonus in my paycheck. No offense to retail personnel, but they are paid to help customers and sell things. We are paid to count. It is right there in the company name, "Inventory Specialists." They hire us to come and count, and then assume at every turn that we don't know how to count. I will never understand this fact in a million years.
We did six Kohl's stores over the last two weeks, and by the time we got to the last one today, I had just about had my fill. In every single store we had the same arguments to get them to let us count the logical multiple quantity areas that way. I felt so bad for our manager who was running them; all I had to do was point out the problem areas to her, she had to talk to the store manager and fight an often losing battle. But the highlight of the whole week was last night. We were counting in towels, which we had been doing for two weeks. The areas had large pink signs warning us that there were different sizes of towels in the bin, which you would think they would realize we know after doing five of these. We were chattering with each other as we counted, and I mistakenly counted a hand towel as a facecloth, and thinking aloud commented on that being wrong. One of the store women came running up and said to me, "Be careful! You've got bath sheets, hand towels and facecloths in there." She was reading it from the warning sign, pointing to each word for me like a teacher at a chalkboard. Oh, no she didn't!!! I was so insulted and so furious, I said to her, "Thank you, I know that. This is the sixth Kohl's I have done. Not to mention I have been reading since I was 5." Strangely, I didn't see too much more of her after that. The thing is, a lot of store people treat us with about as much respect as they would give a floor sweeper, failing to realize that we are not simply auditors, we are also potential customers, and if they piss us off enough, we will absolutely refuse to shop in their store. In stores like Kohl's with a large crew, that could mean up to 50 alienated customers. I have been in stores where I loved their stuff, but they treated us with such contempt that I never set foot in there again. Word to the wise if you ever hire a service to do your inventory...we are people too, not mindless, idiotic drones. Give us a little bit of credit.
So January is over. I worked a paltry 60 hours the first week I worked. This past week I put in 71 hours, which didn't leave a lot of time for journaling. But I am done now, rich temporarily, and back. And really, really sick of counting stuff.
-=Lainey=-
