Why Are Traders Joe's Employees So Damn Happy?
It's not just the Mochi Rice Nuggets
Something’s in the air at Trader Joe’s and everyone there is huffing it.
Do they only hire people with excessive amounts of serotonin or is there a literal TJ’s white label Kool-Aid the employees drink to give them that glossy Stepford shellacking and a very genuine interest in cauliflower flour?
Cuz I want in on that.
For those who aren’t familiar with Trader Joe’s, allow me to explain. TJ’s is a “neighborhood” grocery chain crammed with shopping carts much too big for the aisles and seemingly healthy foods with cutesy names like This Strawberry Walks into a Bar and Perfectly Pickled Pups. It is run by Hawaiian shirt-clad humans who like eye contact and asking prying questions about your grocery selections.
Almost every Trader Joe’s has a freakishly small and poorly laid out parking lot. There’s a 75% chance you’ll get t-boned on your way in or out.
The Trader Joe's customer is “overeducated and underpaid” according to it’s founder— an actual guy actually named Joe. People who like pumpkin flavors and chalkboard art will also have their minds blown.
There are no employees at Trader Joe’s — there are crew members. Everyone who works there has a nautical title (captain, merchant, Gilligan, the Professor, Maryann, etc.)
They are really excited about your weekend plans. A little annoyingly so.
TJ’s Employee: So what have you got going on this weekend?
ME: I’m about to put on my best sweats and murder this tuscan cabernet cheese spread.
TJ’s Employee: Amazing! Have you tried our cedarwood and sage multipurpose cleaner? It’s made with coconut-derived surfactants which are great for getting out cheese sweats stains!
TJ’s Employee: Wow, that’s a lot of ramen! Are you doing anything special with it?
ME: It’s all my kid eats.
TJ’s Employee: Awww, that’s so great! Here, give him this roll of scratch and sniff “I went bananas at Trader Joe’s” stickers and a high five from me!
TJ’s Employee: Have you tried our Italian Bomba Hot Pepper Sauce with this chickpea fusilli pasta? It is indeed the bomba!
ME: No.
TJ’s Employee: Would you like to? Here, let me ring my cowbell six times to signify a request for a bowl of Italian Bomba Hot Pepper Sauce with chickpea fusilli pasta! Here you go! Blow on it first— it’s probably hot.
ME: I’ll take thirty-six cases.
My Alternate Reality
When work gets real “worky” I sometimes daydream about an alternate reality. The bizarro Shelly is sometimes:
Wildly rich and equally generous. She spends millions on airfare flying rescue dogs to foster homes around the world!
A Pulitzer Prize winning journalist known for her thought-provoking, hard-hitting Bachelor recaps.
Hard at work at her neighborhood Trader Joe’s.
Now, I love Trader Joe’s as a shopper. There are reasons I will brave their shitty parking lots that can only be found within those walls and on those shelves.
The Greek yogurt spinach dip!
The vegetable fried rice!
The chocolate cat cookies!
The reduced fat string cheese that doesn’t taste like paper towels and make me feel like a Cathy comicstrip!
The cheapest boxes of wine on the planet!
The pre-sliced fresh mangos! Pre-sliced! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO SLICE A MANGO???
But would I love Trader Joe’s as a crew member? Could I be that happy too? Could my middle-aged lady beast be quelled by stacking organic pluots and pretzel breadsticks in reusable shopping bags? Does TJ’s attract happy people or does TJ’s make people happy?
I decided to put that Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalism to work and find out exactly how Joe got the market on joy.
Comfort Over Fashion:
Crew members don’t have to think hard about what to wear to work as they’ll be given an array of branded tees, long-sleeve shirts, and hoodies.
If you’re a crew member, you get a solid color shirt with a hibiscus flower. Mates and Captains wear Hawaiian shirts. Just like my work-from-home job, it’s fair game from the waist down and a great opportunity to express your self-identity. On any given day I’ve seen jeans, cargo shorts, yoga pants, even Winnie-the-Pooh fur bottoms. Not sure where that crew member was going to or coming from, but honestly, who cares? He was so excited to search the loading dock in search of the Chantilly Cream Vanilla Bean Mini Sheet Cake shipment, the Pooh pants only added to his charm.
AARP Approved!
Hold on to your butts because what I’m about to tell you WILL SHOCK YOU.
I am not that young.
I KNOW!
I am grateful that 99% of my coworkers only know me as a 1 x 1 animated passport photo on a dirty laptop screen and therefore can’t see the trail of Kleenex that fall out of the sleeves of my Alfred Dunner cardigan or that slight hobble in my gait due to untreated bunions. (I DO NOT HAVE BUNIONS! I AM USING HYPERBOLE HERE TO EXEMPLIFY MY OLDNESS IN COMPARISON TO MY 20-SOMETHING COWORKERS. WHY DO I FEEL THE NEED TO DISTANCE MYSELF FROM BUNION SUFFERERS? ALSO WHY AM I SHOUTING? BECAUSE I CAN’T HEAR YOU, SONNY!)
The internet claims the average age of a crew member is between 20-30. I beg to differ. My local TJ’s looks like a casting call for the remake of Cocoon. As part of my field studies, I examined the physical appearance of crew members by paying close attention to their faces, necks, and backs of their hands because we all know hands don’t lie. (Sorry, Shakira.) Each subject greeted me with a warm smile, more intense eye contact, and an invitation to sample a peanut butter brookie. These people, man! Not one restraining order issued!
And guess what I discovered?
MIDDLE-AGED LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!
I was surrounded by my people! Elders, even! f I were to join the crew, I could be one of the “young ones.” They would ask me to climb the step ladder to reach the Yuzu Miso Spread and crouch down to stock the riced hearts of palms because clearly I had the most lubricating fluid left in the joints. The Elders would ask me to explain what a headbanger was or how to use a Commodore 64 and insist my years spent as a latchkey kid surely had something to do with my exemplary work ethic. My breaks would be spent listening to them say how much I reminded them of their grandchildren’s mothers.
SweeterThan Tropical Green Tea Instant Boba:
When I was in the check out line, another crew member saw my big, red cart full of ramen and came over to help the cashier bag. You would have thought this person donated a kidney or offered to pay their child’s way through college given the sheer gratitude on display.
“Oh my goodness, Carol, you are so sweet! Aren’t you supposed to help Ned with the shipment of Kumato brown tomatoes?”
“Leesa and Glenn came back from break early and are all over it!”
“Isn’t it your day off?
“It is! But I’m just over the moon happy to help you out!"
Sometimes I don’t want to talk about how I’m preparing the fried rice or what I’m doing on a Wednesday night. I just want to get in, buy 36 ounces of hummus for $2 and try not to run over a display of wooden flowers on my way out of my parking spot. But those cheery, inquisitive, plantain-chip-loving helper angels bring it out in me every time.
“On this fine Wednesday, I’m going home, unpacking these groceries, releasing my existential lady rage by screaming into my dog’s soft neck fur, and then making my son ramen just like every other day, Joan. I appreciate you asking!”
98% of the time I leave Trader Joe’s happier than when I went in. Even Home Goods only has about an 85% happiness increase rate and that’s my goddamn heaven on Earth!
Stress Level - Nonexistent:
If a crew member is working at 8:00 at night or on a Sunday it’s because they asked to or are filling in for Alice so she can recover from cataract surgery. I walked past a crew member sitting on the floor, lining up the Cowboy Caviar labels like little soldiers, and belting out the words to Alanis Morissette’s Hand in my Pocket. Not one shit given! Just singing and stocking shelves like they were alone in their own kitchen and getting paid for it. I guarantee you that person leaves their shift with a little pep in their step and Guacasalsa in their backpack and gets on with their life. No stress about an upcoming presentation or a toxic boss or a long commute. They clock in, clock out, and carry on.
I mean, doesn’t that sound nice? Don’t we all deserve a little bit of that sweet guacasalsa attitude?
Everything we need to know about happiness might be found at Trader Joe’s. They literally have everything. If you need more fiber in your life, pick up the Almond Butter Chia Overnight Oats. If you need more joy in your life, pick up a job application.
If you can walk there, even better.
XO,
Shelly
Okay, I can't stop laughing at this. I thought maybe they were just like this at my local Trader Joe's. I didn't know it was their thing. Same for the shitty parking lot! Throw in the matching shirts and it's beginning to sound a little...dare I say, culty? Even so, their meetings undoubtedly have the best snacks of all the cults.
I'm still dying at "The reduced fat string cheese that doesn’t taste like paper towels and make me feel like a Cathy comicstrip!"
Of course I had to look up Guacasalsa, and IT'S A THING!?! I was in TJ's just yesterday. How did I miss the Guacasalsa????
This was the best, Shelly!