Ten years later . . .

Reality still bites

By Hannah Pfeifle

Define irony. How about working an identical job to the one I worked in college, except now I have a college degree and I make less money. How about cracking a joke about my friend’s employer, only to find myself working for the same company a few weeks later. We can’t even reveal our employer’s name without smirking because we know inevitably someone will make a Reality Bites comment. My friend and I work at the Gap, and sometimes reality does bite.

In her defense (at least she has one, and this is always explained immediately), she works for the Internet division of the company at the corporate headquarters in San Francisco. I, on the other hand, have recently claimed the entry-level title of Sales Associate in one of the company’s thousand or so retail stores. How do I avoid the Reality Bites joke? I don’t tell anyone where I work.

Months after graduation and still in the process of interviewing, I found myself completely broke. Since it seemed that no one in publishing was breaking down my door to give me a job, nor would they be in the near future, I decided to fall back on retail. I know I should be waitressing because the money is so much better, but I really hate waitressing. Amazingly, I don’t hate working at the Gap.

So far only a few close family members and friends know of my recent employment. But when I talk to friends over email or on the phone, I tend to imply that I am still unemployed. Am I embarrassed by my new job? Yes and no. I’m embarrassed to admit that I might actually like working there. I’m embarrassed to admit that I might respect my employer and the product it produces. And the reason I’m embarrassed is Reality Bites itself.

I’m no Janeane Garofalo, staunchly defending Folding 101 and other fundamentals of Gap culture. I’ve always fancied myself more the Winona: ultra-cool, alterna-waif documentress who refused to back down in the face of corporate America. Unemployed hipster Winona scoffed at the idea of working at the Gap. I would like to scoff at the idea of working for the Gap. Problem is, I work for the Gap.

Comparatively, Gapgirl Janeane is a chubby, geeky, bespectacled, boyfriendless nobody. Who would you rather be associated with? The same can be said for the male representatives in the movie. Ben Stiller is somewhat desirable in his clean-cut, money-exuding, really nice but dorky sort of way. But he’s still Johnny Corporate-Head. He’s no match for Ethan Hawke’s Troy: smarter/wittier (could Ben define irony so well?), cuter, plays the guitar in a band, AND he’s an unemployed loser who apparently doesn’t bathe that often, chain smokes, and treats women like shit. Now there’s a catch.

And yes, 10 years later these associations still exist. The persistence of Reality Bites as a facet of pop culture is a phenomenon worthy of study almost as much as Gap’s infiltration of Yuppie America. Personally, I think Janeane has only admirable qualities: she’s rational, stable, dependable, and motivated (although she was a slutbag who kept a diary of all her conquests, I choose to ignore her more sundry personality traits). Someday I hope to defend my employer as well as she. We have a lot in common already. The only difference being that she has managerial status and lives in her own apartment.

Boy, my parents must be proud of me. They spent thousands and thousands of dollars for me to earn a degree at one of the more respectable liberal arts colleges in the country all so I could move back home and fold khakis. No one I work with seems to think it strange that I’m in the position I am in. Of course, most of the people I work with look at me and assume I’m still in high school.

The real tragedy in this whole story is that three quarters of my wardrobe is now going to waste. When it comes down to it, I really don’t have that much Gap clothing. And the clothing I have that isn’t Gap is so obviously not Gap. I don’t think it could even pass as Old Navy or Banana Republic. I don’t want to give out too many trade secrets for fear of being fired, but there is a whole list of do’s and don’ts when it comes to attire. Preferably you are wearing Gap at all times, current styles. If you are not wearing Gap, you should look like you are. You should exude Gap from every pore. Be Gap. I’m trying to scrounge together at least one outfit for every day of the week. Current styles? Not going to happen. I’m trying to save money here, discounted clothes or no.

This is where the Catch-22 comes in. Gap makes up for its low wages by giving its employees a good discount. Taking advantage of the discount means spending money. If you don’t take advantage, that means you’re not buying any clothes, therefore not sporting the current styles, and it’s doubtful if you’ll last very long at the Gap. I guess to work there you shouldn’t be in it for the money, but for love of the Gap.

I swear the people I work with are some of the nicest people I have ever met and they love what they do. Gap promotes a family atmosphere, which will hopefully teach me how to overcome my inadequacies in dealing with our image. Of course, my manager might file for divorce after reading this. Working for a corporate giant means lots of orientation packets, rule books, general structure. Frankly it can be quite intimidating. There are a lot of laws and I’m sure I’m breaking one of them right now. If I am, maybe I’ll just grab my dad’s credit card and head out to the gas station.

Hannah Pfeifle can be reached at hpfeifle@hotmail.com.