Parks Place

Welcome back, dear reader. When we last left off, I boldly announced that I was going to apply for the now-vacant Department Supervisor position. And I did exactly that!

Did I get the job? Absolutely not. Ivan the Terrible didn’t think I had enough experience to lead a department—and he was probably right, at least at the time. My counterpoint would be that you can’t gain that experience unless you’re given the opportunity to try. Needless to say, I was a bit bummed, but that’s life: take a moment, take a breath, and keep going.

They ended up hiring someone from outside the company with a lot of management experience. I’ll be honest—I don’t even remember his name. He lasted two days before walking into Ivan’s office, handing over his vest, and saying something like, “You might as well start over from scratch,” before leaving. The position was posted again, and I applied again. This time, I wasn’t even granted an interview.

Hammer and I kept the department as tidy as we could, sticking to a solid routine. I worked the closing shift so I could maintain the department after things slowed down at night. I spent countless hours mopping and zoning the grout and thin-set aisle. At one point, I’m fairly certain there was as much dust in my lungs as there was on the shelves.

Weeks went by, and they still hadn’t found anyone to fill the Department Supervisor role. I stayed persistent, asking about the job whenever I could. The Specialty Assistant Store Manager (ASM)—we’ll call her Lexco—probably got tired of hearing from me.

Let me divert for a moment to give you a sense of daily life in a place like this.

This particular store was about 120,000 square feet, what we called a “Left-Hand layout.” That simply means when you walk through the front doors, the majority of the store is to your left. We had a 20,000-square-foot Garden Center, a 12,000-square-foot Back Room/Receiving area, and a 10,000-square-foot Bullpen (an open-air, fenced space for bulk products like pressure-treated lumber).

Both sides of the building used gas-powered forklifts—the lumber side for pallets of concrete, building materials, and lumber, and the garden side for mulch, soil, and pavers. There was an extensive training process for all powered equipment, and by then I was certified on every piece in the building. It pays to be useful, and I enjoyed being useful.

Strict rules governed where and when the equipment could be parked inside, though they weren’t always followed. If you know Southwest Florida, you know it rains Every. Single. Day. for several months of the year. Forklift forks rust easily, so they weren’t supposed to be left outside in the rain.

Whenever a forklift was left outside, someone had to dash out and bring it in. Somehow, I became the go-to guy for that soggy task. I didn’t mind—it’s just water—and I collected a lot of free shirts along the way. Eventually, I invested in waterproof shoes, because few things are worse than wet feet halfway through your shift.

We received a freight truck almost every night, and a dedicated overnight crew handled unloading and stocking. Because I closed most nights, I became friends with the overnight supervisor. Some days we’d get two trucks, and the first had to be unloaded before the second arrived or the store would be fined. On those nights, they’d pull help from the salesfloor, and I was almost always tapped. I didn’t mind—it was easy work, and you could make it fun.

I was doing everything I could to prove my value and increase my chances of landing the Department Supervisor position. After months of persistence, I finally wore Lexco down, and she agreed to interview me. By then I’d been with the company for nearly two and a half years. I liked being a Specialist, but I knew I could handle more. Eventually, after many attempts, I broke through—Lexco gave me the job.

To be honest, there wasn’t much more for me to do that I wasn’t already doing. The main new responsibilities were overseeing our display area, making sure we had product, and ensuring displays were maintained and reflected sales data. Oh, and attending a staff meeting every Monday. Management also sent me to a different store for a week of training.

The person who “trained” me was a 20-plus-year veteran of the industry and a genuinely great guy. He loved cars, so let’s call him Gears. Gears reviewed the basics—broken tile, carpet control, merchandising tips.

Then he shared the real insider knowledge: how to game the system to get exactly what we needed from the Distribution Center (DC). At the time, orders for customer product were placed by phone, and the DC never verified whether an item was actually sold. That meant we could request four pallets of a fancy tile and display it without issue. And we did—on more than one occasion.

This was also my first real dive into department-wide sales data. I was still too new to spot trends the way I would later in my career, but it was invaluable experience.

I had been a Department Supervisor for about two months when the company decided to shake everything up. They claimed there was too much overhead.

Overnight, they eliminated two ASM positions at every location and replaced Department Supervisors with a new Zone Manager system. Instead of managing one department, Zone Managers oversaw three or four. The only guarantee for Department Supervisors was an interview for a Zone Manager role. As you can imagine, this was incredibly frustrating for all of us.

There’s a lot to unpack about the next six months of my career, so I’ll pause here for now. Thank you for reading—I hope this chapter was entertaining.

Please enjoy Part Six. Thanks for reading!