What Happens in Retail: The Adventures of a Stock Boy: What Happens in Retail, #1

By Matt R. King

Have you ever wondered what happens behind the scenes in your favorite big box store? Well, this collection of stories will answer those questions 

After typical pot-smoking teenager Martin Roth gets hired at the local MinusMart, strange things start happening around him, and even to him. 

What does he do when the ghost of an employee who was killed on the job years ago shows up to help him with his work? Or about getting put on a fellow employee's "kill list"?

Then there's the problem of surviving a self-inflicted injury just to get out of an inevitable argument with a manager. We're talking life or death here!

There are many more stories of fantastic adventures. What does he do? One thing - he's a potheadm so let's have a party!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matt R. King
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223872054

Book preview

What Happens in Retail

By Matt R. King

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - The Afternoon Shift

Chapter 2 - Loin-Less Leon

Chapter 3 - Closing Time

Chapter 4 - The Forbidden Word

Chapter 5 - The All Nighter

Chapter 6 - Medusa

Chapter 7 - The MinusMart Ghost

Chapter 8 - New Hires

Chapter 9 - Purple Vests Versus Orange Vests

Chapter 10 - Overnight Shopper

Chapter 11 - The Beautiful Turd

Chapter 12 - Little Pat’s Kill List

Chapter 13 - Calvin Was Here

Chapter 14 - Inventory Day

Chapter 15 - The New Store Manager

Chapter 16 - The Female Curse

Chapter 17 - Party Shift

Chapter 1

The Afternoon Shift

2:30 P.M.

Martin Roth got the callback for the interview at an awkward time; he was laying on his bed in his room, stoned out of his mind. He lay there, just staring up at the bumpy texture on the white ceiling above him.

It had never occurred to Martin just how beautiful it looked before today. In fact, he was utterly amazed by this.

Questions about the bumpy texture were popping into his head. Why does the ceiling look like that? What’s the reason for the bumpy texture? Why does it look like popcorn on the ceiling? Was it meant to look like that or was it all there just by accident? Martin was about to search for the answer to all these questions when he suddenly got a call.

The sudden ringtone scared the shit out of Martin. It scared him way more than it should have, but that was one of the drawbacks of Martin being stoned; he was super jumpy when he was high. Martin took a moment to try to slow his heart rate (which at this point was impossible), then pressed the talk button on his phone. He put the phone on speaker and started talking.

Hello? Martin said into the phone with a stoned voice. He then realized that he was holding the phone way too close to his mouth.

Hi, a cheery male voice responded. Is this Martin Roth? 

Martin started to freak out. The questions in his head started to appear again. Who was this person calling him, and how did he know Martin’s name? What does he want from me? Am I safe? Do I need to call the police? But what if this was the police calling him? WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN! His mind was panicking again. The voice in the phone kept talking.

This is Jim from MinusMart. Am I speaking with Martin Roth? the voice asked again.

Uh ... yes, Martin replied nervously.

We were impressed with the resume that you submitted last week and would like you to come in for an interview. Are you still interested in the position? the voice asked.

The resume I submitted? Martin thought to himself. Oh right! He had totally forgotten about that.

Martin was currently trying to find a job. He had walked around town and submitted resumes to places that were hiring. Martin didn't want to do this, but his dad told him that he had to if he wanted to keep living with him and his mom.

Martin was nineteen now, and technically he didn't have to listen to his parents, but his dad could technically kick him out of the house, too. So, Martin really didn't have any choice. It had been a week since he had handed out those resumes. He thought he wasn't going to get a call back from any of them, but here he was.

Hello? Are you still there? Hello? the voice from the phone said, snapping Martin out of his train of thought.

Yes, yes, I'm still here, Martin said into his phone. There was a long pause after this.

... So are you still interested? Jim asked, seeming confused.

Yes, sorry, I am, Martin replied into the phone. I would love to come in for an interview.

Great, the male voice said, the cheery tone returning. When would be the best time for you to come in for the interview?

Martin took a minute to think about this. He tried to clear all of the smoke from his brain so he could think. Was there anything that he had to do in the next few days? No, there wasn't. His calendar was completely free.

Anytime tomorrow would work for me, Martin said.

That won't work for us, Jim said flatly.

Oh, okay. How about the day after that, on Wednesday?

That won't work for us either.

Oh.

I'll tell you what. I just so happen to be free right now, so how about we do the interview right away. Say in about ... twenty minutes, Jim said.

Martin's mind began to race again. Twenty minutes! Martin thought. He couldn't do an interview right now; he was way too high for it. Plus, he only had twenty minutes to get ready. He needed way more time than that.

Uh, right now doesn't work for me, Martin said.

So, does that mean you don't want the job? Because we have a whole list of other people here we could hire instead.

Oh, no, no, I still want the job, but ...

Great, then I'll see you here at the store in twenty minutes. When you get here just ask for me at the front desk. See you soon. The line then went dead before Martin could say anything else.

Martin then just lay there for a moment, trying to process what just happened. What the fuck was that? Martin thought. How did he get roped into this so quickly?

Martin didn't have time to think about it at all right now, he had to start getting ready for an interview, and do it fast. He knew that it would take him ten minutes alone just walk to MinusMart. That left him only ten minutes to get ready! And on top of all that, he had to do it all while he was as high as a kite! It seemed like Martin was already doomed from the start. But he still got out of his bed and frantically tried to get ready for his sudden interview.

3:00 P.M.

Martin arrived at the front of the MinusMart store almost exactly twenty minutes later. Although, with his high still in full swing, it felt more like two hours to Martin. He stood in front of the store, sweating like a pig through the wrinkled white dress shirt that he had pulled out of his drawer. It was a hot June day, and his high wasn't helping him stay cool. In fact, it made it worse.

Martin felt lucky that he somehow remembered to put cologne on, otherwise he would smell like a pig as well. Even though time felt like it was moving at a snail's pace, he hadn’t had time to jump in the shower. He tried to comb his short blonde hair, but it still looked like a greasy mess on his head. Martin had the feeling that this wasn't going to go well, but he walked in to try his best anyway.

Once inside, the cool air-conditioning hit his face. Martin immediately started to feel a bit better. He looked out at the wide entrance as he walked in.

His eyes were assaulted with about a dozen different items that were on sale at a low price. Martin was familiar with the store as he had been in here shopping many times himself. And lucky for him he knew where he needed to go.

Martin turned right inside the entrance, where he knew the customer service desk was. This was the place where shoppers would come to either return items, or just to complain to the girl behind the desk about pretty much anything.

Martin got in line behind an old lady with curly white hair who was already at the desk. She was complaining that the store didn't have a certain item she was looking for. Martin couldn't help but listen in on the conversation.

Why doesn't your store carry any wooden coat hangers? the old lady asked the girl behind the counter. The girl had long blonde hair and blue eyes. Martin noticed that her name tag read Jamie on it.

Our store is smaller than some of the other MinusMarts in the other towns. We don't have as much selection as other MinusMarts might have. The next closest MinusMart is in Chatham. I'm sure they would carry it there, Jamie explained.

Well, I shouldn't have to go to Chatham just to get wooden coat hangers! the old lady snapped at the girl. Every MinusMart should carry the same items. It's absolutely ridiculous!

I'm sorry, ma'am, but there isn't anything else that I can do. If you want, I can call the manager down if you want to talk to him.

Eh, forget it. I guess I'll just take my money elsewhere, the old lady spat while waving off Jamie's response. The old lady then turned around to leave, and Martin watched Jamie raise her middle finger to the old lady’s back after the old lady turned away from her, though she maintained her smile until the lady was out of sight. Martin had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud. He was still way too high to keep a straight face.

After the old lady had walked away, Martin stepped up to the counter. Jamie's eyes went from watching the old lady leave, to Martin as he approached. The thin smile became full again when her eyes rested on him.

Hi, how may I help you? Jamie asked him.

Hi, I'm here to see Jim, Martin said.

Which Jim?

Well how many Jims are there?

Three. There's Jim D, Jim S, and Jim H. Which one are you here to see?

Oh, I don't know. He never gave me his last name. He just asked me to come down here for an interview. He told me to ask for him here.

Oh, if it's for an interview then it's probably Jim S you're looking for. He's one of the managers here.

Yeah, that must be him.

Okay, he should be in that room way down there past the cash registers, Jamie said while leaning over the desk and pointing to Martin's right. He followed her finger. Just like she said, Martin could see a door at the end of all the cash registers. Then he turned back to Jamie. He thanked her, left the desk, and started walking towards the door that Jamie had pointed to.

Once he got to the door, he stopped in front of it and took a deep breath in. Then he grabbed the door handle and walked inside.

Inside, Martin was shocked to see that the room was very open and very messy. In every corner of the room there was either a bunch of bikes, a bunch of cardboard boxes, or a mess of MinusMart fixtures or parts of them laying about. Then Martin's eyes dropped on the person sitting at a long table in the middle of the room.

Martin was surprised to see a little person sitting on the other side of the table. The little person wore a plaid buttoned shirt with black dress pants, and he had black, combed-over hair that made him look like Donald Trump.

Martin saw that the little person wore a name tag with the name JIM on it. Martin had to put a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing at the sight. It was at this moment that Martin realized that he was going to have his interview with a little person, while high at the same time.

There was nothing funny about Jim being a little person, he just found it funny because he was high. There was no way that Martin was going to be able to keep a straight face during this interview. He was screwed.

Martin Roth? Jim asked as he saw Martin walk in. Martin nodded while still having his hand over his mouth. Please have a seat.

Martin somehow managed to regain his composure, took his hand away from his mouth, walked over to the stool closest to him, and took a seat. Martin noticed there was an open folder on the table next to Jim.

So, before we begin, I would just like to clarify a few things, Jim began.

Of course, Martin replied.

So, you applied for the Fulfillment position available. Is that correct?

Fulfillment Martin thought. What a funny word. Ful-fill-ment. Fuuullll-fiiilllll-mm ... Then Martin noticed that Jim was staring at him, waiting for an answer. Martin had gotten distracted thinking about that damn word.

Yes, Martin finally said.

Good, Jim resumed. But just be aware that MinusMart can change your job title at any given time.

What does that mean? Martin asked.

It means that we can change what your job is. For example, you applied for the Fulfillment position, but if we suddenly needed a cashier at one of the tills, we could make you a cashier, Jim explained.

So, what's the point of applying for one position if you're just going to switch my position afterwards? Martin asked.

Jim didn't give him an answer. Instead, he just glared at Martin for a moment, then took out a pen from one of his little pockets and started jotting something down on the paper in front of him. Then he moved on.

Now, let's begin the interview, Jim said, clearing his throat. First question. Why do you want to work at MinusMart?

Martin tried to think of an appropriate answer, but the smoke that was still in his brain wouldn't let him obtain a clear train of thought, so he instead just said the first thing that came to his mind.

Because I shop here a lot and want the employee discount, Martin replied. Jim stayed silent and continued to look at Martin. Then a moment later he jotted something down on the paper again.

Second question. What makes you a good pick for the Fulfillment position?

Martin again tried thinking about his answer. But instead he started thinking about what he was expected to do for the Fulfillment position. The description for the position that Martin had seen online was very vague.

The position had been summarized in just one sentence. It said: Fulfillment associates place inventory on the shelves. That was it, and since Martin couldn't think about what else to say, he said: I'm good at putting inventory on shelves.

Jim again just stared blankly at him, as if waiting for Martin to continue talking. When he realized that was Martin's full answer, he started jotting something on the paper again.

Alright, I think we're almost done here, Jim said. Martin figured he must be doing terrible, but that was to be expected from those terrible responses he gave.

Jim continued talking. Last question. Let's pretend for a moment that you're working at a till as a cashier. There are three customers with carts waiting to be checked out. The first cart only has a few items in it, the second cart has a lot of items in it, and the third cart has a fair amount of items and a crying baby in it. In what order would you check these carts out?

Now it was Martin's turn to stare blankly at Jim. What did that question have to do with the job he was applying for? The question didn't even make that much sense. But Martin still tried to answer it as best as he could.

I would put the cart with the least amount first, the cart with the most amount second, and the cart with the crying baby in it last, Martin replied.

Jim jotted down his answer on the paper. Once he was finished, he looked up at Martin again. Martin prepared for the worst. He was expecting Jim to say, Well, we’ll be in touch with you, and then never hear from MinusMart again, but Jim surprised him instead.

Well, I think that you're exactly the person we're looking for to fill the position.

Martin's mouth dropped open. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He was sure that he must have heard Jim wrong. He asked Jim to repeat what he just said. Jim then started giggling like a child.

That's right, you're hired! Jim exclaimed happily. Welcome to the MinusMart team.

Oh my God! That's great! Martin said happily. He stood up and shook Jim's tiny hand.

I just need you to sign some papers to make it official, Jim said. He lifted the piece of paper he was jotting on and pulled out another sheet from under it. He passed it over to Martin along with his pen. Just sign your name at the bottom there, in the middle of the page there, and at the top there, Jim instructed while pointing to blank spaces on the sheet.

Martin signed his name at each spot Jim pointed to. His handwriting was sloppy with his impairment, but Jim didn't say anything about it after Martin handed the paper back to him. He just nodded after glancing at it, then tucked the paper back into the folder and closed it.

So, when do I start? Martin asked.

Right now.

What?

That's right, right now.

Um, but—

Don't give me any buts, Jim said, his voice getting serious. You just signed the paper. You officially work for MinusMart now.  I need you to start right away on the afternoon shift. There's a truck sitting in the back right now, and we need another person back there to help unload it.

After Jim finished, he got down off the stool and walked over to the wall behind him. Against the wall sat a clear plastic container. Jim opened the lid on the container, pulled out a purple vest, then walked back over to the table.

Here, put this on and follow me, Jim said, handing the vest over to Martin.

Martin took the vest and looked at it. The vest had no sleeves and had the MinusMart name printed on the left side. There was one pocket on each side at the bottom of the vest. The fabric felt rough and hard in his hand. Martin lowered the vest and opened his mouth to protest, but Jim had walked to the door.

Come on, I'll lead you to the backroom, Jim said while opening the door.

Martin again opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Martin was still way too high to protest what was happening. Fuck it, Martin thought. A job's a job.

He would just have to text his mom later to say that he wouldn't be home for supper because he's working. So he put the vest on and started following Jim out the door. It was at this moment that Martin realized that he was now going to have to do his first day at work while being high as well.

3:35 P.M.

Jim led Martin through the store to the backroom. Compared to the bright and clean store aisles they had just walked through, the backroom was dimly lit and dusty. Everything in the backroom seemed to be grey. The concrete floor was grey, the walls were grey, and even the shelving units were grey. The only thing that seemed to have any colour in them whatsoever were the brown, square cardboard boxes that were stacked on one another on the various shelving units around him. Martin's nostrils were filled with the heavy smell of dust and oil.

Jim led Martin to the middle of the backroom and to a wide aisle where five people stood around a long, manual conveyor belt with wheels. The conveyor belt continued through an open bay door close to Jim and Martin, to the right, and then into an almost pitch-black truck.

This must be the truck that needed to be unloaded that Jim had mentioned earlier. The conveyor belt was already loaded with a bunch of boxes of all shapes and sizes with more coming down consistently. The people around the conveyor belt were picking up the boxes and placing them on wooden skids behind them. Martin noticed that everyone around the belt were men, and of all different ages. They were all chatting amongst themselves as Jim and Martin walked up.

Hey boys, stop for a second! Jim yelled at them. Everyone stopped removing boxes from the conveyor belt and looked down at Jim from their places in the long aisle. This is Martin, I just hired him for your team. He's going to be helping you guys unload the truck. Keep an eye on him and show him the ropes.

Ah, Fresh Meat! exclaimed a tall, east-Indian man with a long, black beard. He stood at the centre of the aisle, and he stared at Martin with a wild look in his eye. Martin immediately felt intimidated by the East-Indian. Jim looked back at Martin.

Don't let Ra-ja scare you, Jim told Martin. He acts tough, but he's really not.

Hey, I heard that, Jim! the man named Ra-ja exclaimed.

Jim just ignored him and continued looking at Martin.

These are the people you're going to be working with on the truck. Listen to their instructions, then come find me after the truck is done. I'll be back in a few minutes with your name tag. Good luck, Jim said cheerfully, then turned around and left.

Martin was left alone with the group of workers. He turned to them, waiting for someone to give him instructions on what to do.

Then a tall, tan and older man with a grey mustache at the end of the conveyor belt hollered at Martin from the end of the aisle. Martin couldn’t understand what he was saying. All Martin heard him say was, Cmoe oevr hree.

What? Martin hollered back. The older man repeated what he said, but Martin still couldn't understand him.

I'll tell him what to do, Dan, a thin man with short black hair and a black mustache close to Martin hollered to the older man. The older man named Dan nodded his head and started watching everyone else work. The thin man turned to Martin.

Come over here beside me, I'll show you what you need to do, he said.

Martin walked over to his side while still looking at Dan, wondering how the thin guy could understand anything Dan was saying.

The thin man noticed Martin looking at Dan with confusion. That's Dan, the thin man said. He's our team's supervisor, and that's pretty much all he does; supervise us without actually helping.

So, he just stands there and watches you guys work the whole time? Martin asked.

Yep, pretty much, the thin man replied. I'm Pat by the way, he said while sticking out his hand. Martin noticed that Pat was wearing a dirty pair of black work gloves on his hands, but he still shook his gloved hand.

Oh, don't let this guy show you what to do, warned a big, chunky older man across the conveyor belt from them. The man wore glasses and had white hair and a long white beard. Martin thought that he looked like a drunk version of Santa Claus. He's got no idea how to do his job right.

Shut up, Big Pat, at least I actually work, Pat snapped back at the chunky old man. Then there was a series of Oooowww's from everyone else. That comment would've made Martin laugh, but he felt confused by their names.

Big Pat? Martin asked in a confused voice.

Yeah, that's what we call him, the Pat beside him said. He's Big Pat, and I'm Little Pat. We both have the same name, so we go by those nicknames so people can tell us apart, Little Pat explained.

Oh, okay, that makes sense, Martin replied, clearing the confusion.

Gte bck ot wrok! Dan hollered again at the end aisle. Again, Martin had no idea what he was saying.

We know, Dan! Little Pat hollered back. Then he turned back to Martin.

What did he just say? Martin asked.

He just told us to stop talking and get back to work, Little Pat replied. Don't bother trying to understand Dan. He slurs every word that he says. It'll take you a while to understand him easily. We’ll translate for you until then.

If the kid's even here that long, said a man with black, shaggy hair and brown eyes. He stood close to Little Pat. The man sounded tired and stood with a slouch.

Little Pat chuckled a little. That's Joel, he said. He's the laziest member on our team.

Hey, come on man, give me some credit, Joel replied, looking a bit hurt by the comment.

Okay, let me re-phrase that. He wouldn't be the laziest worker here if he didn't show up high for work half the time.

Joel started laughing and nodding his head.  Alright man, you got me there, he said while chuckling.

Martin suddenly froze while listening to their conversation. That guy's high right now too, Martin thought while looking at Joel. He looked into Joel's eyes and saw that they were glazed over. Joel met his gaze and must've realized that Martin was high too. Martin knew his eyes must look exactly like his right now, and Joel understood. They held that stare for another moment, then a knowing smirk came across Joel's face. He suddenly nodded at Martin, knowing Martin's secret. But he said nothing about it to anyone. Martin was grateful for that.

Gte bcak ot wrok! Dan hollered again at them.

WE KNOW! Little Pat yelled back at Dan. I'm just showing him what to do! Martin was surprised by the way Little Pat was yelling at his supervisor. Little Pat turned back to Martin with an annoyed look on his face. Anyway, here's what you—

Hey, wait, Ra-ja said, interrupting him. Don't forget to introduce him to Calvin.

Oh, right, you still haven't even met Calvin yet, Little Pat said with wide eyes. Oh, you're going to love Calvin. He's in the truck right now. I'll call him over.  He then pushed past Martin and walked over to the dark, open truck door to the right.

HEY CALVIN! Little Pat yelled into the truck. The boxes that were steadily coming out of the truck on the conveyor belt suddenly stopped and a high-pitched voice replied from within the truck.

WHAT!

COME OUT AND MEET THE NEW GUY!

WHY?

BECAUSE IT'S THE POLITE THING TO DO!

Then the voice made a loud groaning sound. A few seconds later, a hairy and muscularly built man walked out of the darkness of the truck. He had short brown curly hair, a light brown beard, and blue eyes that seemed to stare right through you. He looked directly at Martin and no one else as he came out of the truck. He stopped right at the entrance to the truck, and just stared at Martin. After an awkward moment of silence, the man said, Hi, I'm Calvin.

Hi, Martin said. I'm— but Calvin didn't let Martin finish. He quickly turned around and retreated into the truck while Martin was still talking. Martin didn't understand why. Little Pat rejoined Martin at the conveyor belt.

Don't worry, it's nothing you did, he explained. That's just the way Calvin is. He's very socially awkward around new people, but he'll warm up to you. Eventually. Hopefully. A moment later, the boxes started moving out of the truck again.

"Alright, now that you've met everyone that's here today, it's time we get to