When I finished my shift at the store Sunday night, I looked at the manager on duty and declared, “I just finished my seven-stretch!”
I do believe I may have coined a phrase. For me, at least.
I’ve heard my co-workers call it something else. I may have used that other doozie, which ends at a place where it’s plenty warm, myself.
The manager smiled and wished me an enjoyable day off. Been there, done that.
Corporate schedules everybody this long and winding working patch, always after the one weekend we get off each month. Oh, retail. Because it’s part of the split-days-off week, there’s only one day off for the initial recuperation. Then it’s back to the store for three days of labor before that second day off.
Now, I know I’m not the only one working my way over through such hurdles.
In fact, back when I covered music for the big daily, New York State Fair time used to mean a 12-day stretch of coverage for me. In the 1990s, when the late, great Joe LaGuardia was booking acts at both the free-admission court and paid-ticket grandstand through the regime of several fair directors, I’d attend the 4 p.m. concert at the court, hustle to the press building to write and file my review from my laptop, and then make my way to the grandstand for the 7:30 p.m. show. That review had to be filed from the press building — a mile hike from the stands — by midnight. A tight deadline, always.
At the end of the fair, I’d be mentally exhausted. Hey, I was in my 30s and 40s, and sitting down during the shows, listening to music and thinking.
At the end of the seven-stretch, I’m physically pooped. I’m 58, always on my feet, stocking, mixing paint, walking the aisles, listening to customers and thinking.
Which do you think would get you more tired, the state fair concert run of 12 days, or working the store for seven days? What’s your longest stretch of work days? How do you re-energize yourself?