The Retail Caste

I worked in retail for a brief time, and I discovered a shocking caste system that is apparently the norm for the industry. It basically is a hierarchy of looks with pretty people in front, moderately attractive people in the corners and uglies in the basement folding clothes, forced to enter and exit through a back entrance. Then there are the Quasimodo level ugly people who work stocking the shelves at night, so there is no chance they will be seen by the unsuspecting public.

There is no dating out of your caste, and zero chance for upward mobility in this lifetime. I'm happy to have worked there for a brief time because I learned how to remove those weird grey tags that set off alarms, and I learned where I belong on the retail  caste. I was a cashier, which means that I look pretty good from the chest up (the register hides my beer gut), but not I'm not quite attractive enough to be on the floor.

I have prided myself of never dating below my caste and occasionally even landing girls that could have been full of sales floor models. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to frolic among the untouchable night staff of retail. Would it be like the bowels of a steamboat? Does their utter lack of attractiveness lead to a sort of uninhibited sexual openness? Someday I will penetrate this dark world, but only after drinking way too much.