I got a job working at Claire's the summer I turned about 17. I had never really had a serious job and it would be a very long time after leaving Claire's before I actually got a serious job. I probably worked there a grand total of two or three months.
I met some wonderful, hard-working girls during my time there. The first girl I met was a "key holder" and she trained me. She worked at three separate jobs. She barely spent any time with her family and when she was home, she was exhausted. I remember thinking she was so young to be so tired. When she was with me, all she talked about was how she just got off her shift at such-and-such place and she barely made it here on time and she was hungry and she had to do x number of things as soon as she got home. And yet, she always looked amazing, she was so great with the customers, and I thought, "I want to get to know this girl. I need to learn how to be a strong, independent woman from her."
And then, one day, she was gone. It was so strange. I wondered why on earth she would be fired? She was the ultimate employee. But the other girls told me it was true, she had indeed been fired. Toward the end of a shift, I was talking with our store manager, Sarah (name changed), and it somewhat casually came up but the story she told me was unbelievable. "She was supposed to take the cash from the register to the bank at the end of the night and she stole it. So she was fired." I was utterly dumbfounded. That was not the girl I had gotten to know. But I figured, I'd only known her for a few weeks. Maybe I just didn't know her at all? Maybe it was all lies? Maybe I just needed to keep my mouth shut and my head down. So I did.
Then things got weird.
While working a shift with another girl, she started to enlighten me. She told me that things had been disappearing from the store. She suspected she knew who was responsible. "Well, all I know is that Sarah is always going home with stuff and I don't think she pays for it. But it's big ticket stuff."
"Really?" I asked. "I didn't think we even sold big ticket stuff. How expensive can Claire's merchandise even be? Ten bucks?"
"Oh no, Claire's sells furniture, clothes, I mean, it can really add up. And a lot is going missing."
I wondered why she didn't say anything if she thought Sarah was stealing. But then, I didn't say anything either. I didn't know why. I'd never really questioned the faultlessness of adults before. Sure, I had seen them make mistakes, and even egregious wrongdoings, but I had just assumed that because I was a child, there was a reason for it that I just didn't understand but that when I was older, I likely would. So I didn't say anything. And she didn't say anything.
And then she was fired. I began to wonder if we would have any employees left. It was the same story, stealing. Everyone was stealing, they're all stealing. My world view was fracturing. Logic told me that this couldn't be right but my world view told me that adults know best. If I didn't agree or found fault, it was because I didn't understand. But I felt so strongly that this was wrong.
I dismissed my feelings and kept my head down.
Then things got really, really weird. With the exception of my boss, I was down to one coworker. We'll call her Lindsay. I worked several shifts with Lindsay while we waited for new employees to be hired. We had these strange phone conference meetings during our shifts, with some regional manager woman who was clearly unhappy with our store. It was all numbers, I didn't understand most of it, but she spent the majority of the time basically yelling at us.
When I was alone with Sarah, I tried to talk with her to get to know her better. She seemed like a nice enough person, if not a little eccentric. She was maybe in her forties, but she dressed like she was in her teens. Bright make-up, flashy jewelry, short skirts, high boots... an inordinate amount of leather. It was unusual but kind of fun...in an intimidating way. I wanted to try to like her. She told me about her husband, I think he was a police officer or something. She told me about her struggles and worries. If I recall, she wanted children. She really seemed to open up. And I just listened. I went home that night thinking, "there must be something I'm missing."
Then I worked a shift with Lindsay. She was a nice girl. Kind of beachy and laid back. Easy to talk to. She was also a key holder and I hadn't been there very long, so she was still training me. We were running a promotion called "penny bags." Before Sarah left that day, she put a big basket of jewelry, candy, hair accessories and little nick-nacks behind the counter. She gave us a box of little bags and told us that every item in the basket was worth one penny. We were to randomly put five or six items in a bag and sell it for a quarter or a dollar, something like that, and when the customer opens the bag, they are surprised by what they get.
After Sarah left, Lindsay put me to work on the bags while she zoned and shelved and handled sales. As I was bagging, I said, "Some of these are really cute, I might buy one or two."
"Sure," She chirped. "I probably will too. Just put them by the register." So I dropped a few bags by the register and kept bagging. The night drug on, I finished bagging, and as we drew to a close, I started cleaning. Lindsay locked the door and began counting down the register. "You need the money for the penny bags?" I asked.
"No, don't worry about it. I'll just get yours when I get mine."
"Oh wow, cool, thanks," I answered and finished cleaning. I vacuumed the whole store and bagged the trash to take it to the dumpsters. I put my penny bags in my purse, clocked out, said goodbye to Lindsay, and headed out the door. In order to get to the dumpsters, I had to go out the door, around several buildings, through a gate behind a bar, and I was at a dumpster. At night. In the Dark. So I threw the trash in, turned around, and was face to face with a strange woman I'd never seen before. It was about 9, 9:30 at night. I was launched full-speed into panic mode, one hundred percent convinced I was about to be murdered. There was nowhere to run. She was between me and the only exit. My eyes were darting around frantically, looking for any available means to get away or defend myself, only half paying attention when she said, "Hello Jennifer. What are you doing?"
I slowly responded, "taking the trash out..."
"What's in your purse?"
"Excuse me?" Now I was really freaking out. This woman was going to rob me and THEN murder me. And leave me in a dumpster?! I could hear the adrenaline pumping to my brain. Time was slowing down to a crawl.
"You need to come with me back to the store," She spat. To the store? Who was this woman? Was she a manager? Then why was she asking about my purse?
I followed her back to the store like an obedient, little child who never even considered saying "no" to an adult. As in, "No, I'm not following you back to the store, because you just showed up at a dumpster and terrified me and now I'm going straight to my car and heading straight home because that is where I know I am safe."
No, instead, I followed her. And then Sarah showed up. And then cops showed up. Terrifying cops--also a concept I was unfamiliar with--who had no interest in anything I had to say, but were instead more interested in scaring me. I was told that I was a thief and a liar, that I would be fired and arrested and thrown in jail, that I would have a record, that my life would be ruined. I didn't understand what was going on. I didn't know why any of this was happening. They asked me about penny bags. I told them, "yes, we bought penny bags."
They went through the receipts, "there's no record of that."
"Well, Lindsay must have forgotten to pay," I responded.
"Why would she pay for yours?" Sarah asked.
"Because she closed out the register and it was only a few bucks, she was being nice."
"There's no record of it here. You didn't pay," the strange woman snapped.
Sarah looked down at me, "We sat outside in a car and watched you all night. You never paid."
And that was that. They were tightening the noose around my neck with every word I said. I was terrified. Cops were yelling at me, Sarah was yelling at me, that woman was yelling at me, no one really cared about my responses, they dumped out my purse and started going through my things... they found an old Claire's tube of chapstick or lip gloss or something from before I even worked there. A cop asked me, "Where did you get this?"
"I've had that for years. I rarely use it because I don't really like it but I keep it just in case."
He didn't say anything but kept a stern look on his face that screamed "you're a liar."
I was told that the only way I wasn't going in handcuffs and in the back of a cop car right then and there was if my parents came to pick me up. I was taken to the back of the store by Sarah to call them from the store phone. My hands were shaking so badly and I was crying so hard, I could barely make the call. "Mom?"
"Jen? What's wrong? What number is this?"
"It's the store number, mom. You need to come get me."
"Why? What's wrong with your car?"
"There's cops here, mom. They're saying I stole stuff and I'm going to jail. I don't know what's going on. You just need to come here. Please hurry, mom. I'm scared."
I put the phone back on the receiver and looked up at my boss. I felt so hurt and betrayed. "Why are you doing this to me?"
She didn't answer. She just looked away.
My parents came and got me. I never got my things back. I met with a detective a few times and at first he said that Claire's was pressing charges because "hundreds of dollars worth of stuff was stolen" but he ultimately told me that the company decided to drop charges "due to lack of evidence" and that it looked like "internal problems" played a part.
But I would never be the same. I had come of age. I had learned hard life lessons. I learned that being an adult means that you don't just trust people just because they're older than you or higher rank than you or claim to have more knowledge than you. People are depraved. They have ulterior motives. Those could be good motives or they could be bad motives.
I learned that my gut instinct is not something I should silence just because I'm young and don't know better. If something seems wrong, speak up. Even, and especially, if it's something an adult is doing and especially if they are in a position of power over someone vulnerable to them.
And I learned that I can't depend on other people to think for me. Being an adult means that I have to use my own brain and my own heart. I have to use critical thinking skills to solve my problems and I have to trust the conclusions that I come to.
When I was locked in that store with all of those "elders" in positions of power who I'd been taught that I was supposed to trust, I had never felt so alone and so helpless and vulnerable. It was completely traumatizing. No one was on my side. No one was there to defend me. No one was coming to save me. No one was going to stop them from doing this awful thing they were doing. Because of that experience, I learned that I have to be able to depend on myself. It's good to have people you can lean on but independence means you support your own weight. I had to toughen up, believe in myself and stop relying on the people around me to fill my emotional cup.
I never went back to Claire's. That was almost fifteen years ago. It took time for all of these thoughts and conclusions to settle in. It wasn't immediate. And I still relive that horrible night every time I see a Claire's. But I'm glad I was able to come to a place where I realize that I am a better person for it. I just wish that I could track down those other women and find out how they're doing. We're all connected by this event. If you're reading this, I want you to know that I wish you well.
To my "Lindsay," I want you to know that I never held anything against you. To this day, if the items really weren't paid for, I still believe that it was probably just a mistake. They had fired nearly everyone but us and we were exhausted. Things happen.
To my "key holder" with three jobs, I want you to know that you are amazing. You are beautiful inside and out and you inspired me so much. I wish I could have gotten to know you and now I don't even remember your name and I hate that. I hate that I doubted you. I hope you finally came to a place where you had more peace in your life and time to enjoy your family.
To my "Sarah," I want you to know that I forgive you. I don't understand why you did what you did. But I choose to believe that you were simply caught up in something you'd lost control of. Whatever your reasons, I want you to know that I forgive you and I want to thank you for teaching me these hard lessons.
