REPLY TO ALL

ohmygod. Oh my ever loving god and higher power. I didn't mean it. OMG. I would've never hit SEND. I'm screwed now. I'm fucked. I'm gonna lose my job because of one stupid email. You just can't say those things to a client, not by accident and certainly not on purpose. OMFG. I was totally joking, but no one will care and it won't matter. You don't even say those things to a friend, not unless they know you and your twisted, convoluted, hyper-ironic, self-deprecating, quasi-sarcastic so-called sense of humor, a sense of humour (for our Canadian brothers and sisters) that is rapidly degrading and vanishing as my fingers tap on the keyboard. You. Do. Not. Say. Those. Things. Full stop (for our partners in the U.K.). I ran to IT, but they said it's impossible to stop that email, to halt it, to disappear. They rolled their eyes and then guffawed. Gawd! What am I going to do now? FMH! And I don't mean "flexible metallic hose," no siree, Bob, check your Urban Dictionary. Maybe I can plead temporary insanity, a spasmodic tic of digital Tourette Syndrome coupled with Surplus Attention Impulse Disorder (SAID), which is why I "said" what I did. Anyone who knows me knows about my SAID challenges, my SAID imbroglios and stumbles. But will HR accept this? No, of course not. If we had a union, it'd be a grievance procedure, a slap on the wrist (or somewhere else hahahaha; there I go again), and that'd be the end of it. If I was lucky. If I were lucky. REPLY TO ALL. Every other time, I have been so deliberate, sure, careful, vigilant. "Do not REPLY TO ALL," I have warned myself as many times as a lap around the beads, as many times as the mala beads on my right wrist, my fake Buddhist beads, 108, if you must know. What if I say somebody else came to my desk and did it? It's worth a try! Naw. Not even in this wide-open, free-for-all, unprivatized workspace. Who am I kidding? Give me a banker's box (or bankers box or brand name Bankers Box). I'll start packing up my office now. You say we don't have an office, we have an open plan? If you say so. I'm gone. Include me out, oxymoron and all. Exeunt omnes. Stage left. Exit moi. I'm already off the network. I can't even hit REPLY TO NONE. 

How's That Sit With You?

In Berlin, I have had the distinct pleasure of visiting one of Europe's most luxurious department stores, KaDeWe, short for Kaufhaus des Westens. Only minutes from the Zoo Bahnhof, KaDeWe is filled with upscale clothes, accessories, and gourmet food. And more! (As copywriters like to throw in there.) On the top floor, there are stations exhibiting fresh, exotic foods, including pastries, coffees, chocolates, truffles, and a cornucopia of lush delicacies. You can buy a cup of coffee for about 3 euros and sit by windows offering panoramic views of Berlin (well, para-panoramic: one side of the building). And when you purchase this cup of coffee, or strudel, or smoked salmon, you pay (dearly but you don't mind) a lovely cashier sitting comfortably at a computerized checkout register. Go back seven words in the preceding sentence. She (or he, as the case may be) is sitting comfortably. And the cashier presumably can sit all day.

Contrast that with our premier local supermarket chain, Wegmans, renowned for being one of the best places to work in the United States. In fact, it is currently listed Number 3 on Fortune magazine's list of best places to work, and was Number 1 as recently as 2005. (While I disagree with the explanation, the company's website even addresses the issue of the missing apostrophe in the store's name.) Anyway, Wegmans cashiers all stand up, all the time, unless they are granted a break or have a disability.

I've used two extreme examples, KaDeWe Berlin and Wegmans Inc., because each is a showcase, premier store. But I am pretty sure it is common in all of Germany, and maybe all of Europe, for cashiers to be afforded the pleasure of a seat. Just as it is common in the USA, not just at Wegmans, to see cashiers standing.

Can someone explain this to me?

I myself have stood at a register (a long time ago). It kills your back. And your legs.

Does it all have to do with some kind of Puritan work ethic in America, home of the union movement? Fear of presenting a slovenly appearance? Something about productivity?

Hard to fathom, especially if you are comparing the modern-day U.S. to the forever industrious and dutiful Germany, home of Max Weber and his "The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism."

So, what gives?

Can someone give me any plausible explanation why Wegmans, as well as most, if not all, of its competitors, can't find it in their hearts to let the cashiers sit down?

Are there stores (grocery or otherwise) out there that let their folks sit comfortably?

What gives?

Weigh in, folks.

Stand up for sitting down!

Maybe we can start a movement right here.

Just in time for those Labor Day speeches.