I went to Target yesterday to buy the new Tony Bennett Duets CD (which if you haven't bought already you should literally drop everything and go do because IT'S THAT GOOD and because it's on sale for a mere $10 through the 30th) and I'm checking out at the register. I hand the guy my card and explain that the magnetic strip is wearing down and he'll need to enter the number in manually. He looks at me as if I've just quizzed him on the chemcial makeup of the stuff brewing at Hanford and says "do you have another card to pay with?"
"No, I don't," I reply "and this one works fine, you just have to enter it in."
"Well, do you have a checkbook?"
"Um, yes but I want to pay with my debit card because it's so much faster" I say although I'm beginning to think that writing a check in Braille might be faster.
"Do you want to pay with cash?"
As Oprah would say, I'm starting to lose my pleasing personality.
"No, the card is fine. Just enter in the numbers and I'll get out of your hair" I say very nicely while smiling. I'm starting to overcompensate with kindness because I'm thinking of reaching over the counter and grabbing him by the earlobes but I don't want to have to explain my actions to my husband later while viewing the security tape.
"We have an ATM if you want to get some cash" he tries one more time.
"No, really, just please use the card. I know how difficult it is to punch in the numbers one by one and the physical strain it must cause to your poor hands, but I would really appreciate it. Maybe you can look into an L&I claim for all your physical work once I'm outta here."
Ok, so I didn't say all that last part but would it have been so wrong if I had??? He finally enters the card in as slowly as humanly possible and I make a mental note to check with Brad to see if they still teach 10-pad skills in high school BECAUSE THEY NEED TO. It was all I could do to make it out of there without my head exploding all over everyone's red shirts, but I did it, and I don't even think of myself as having rage issues. I'll have to do some soul searching on that one.
Non-sequitor leap here: as I'm getting my family out the door this morning, one member who is completely showered and dressed for the day ACCIDENTALLY crapped their pants on my couch. Ew. Fresh shower, fresh clothes, not so fresh couch.
3 comments:
Were you wearing sweats? I'm sure he would have treated you differently if you were wearing stylish "non-mom" jeans and a shirt that DID advertise a need for breast reduction! Pat yourself on the back for not causing a scene. Just reading this blog made me want to traverse the mountain range and pop that guy upside his head. PS...So sorry to hear about your couch. Yuck.
You shouldn't have admitted that you actually didn't say all of that to him, I personally was feeling a swelling of pride that I haven't felt in years. But then you let me down with the whole "nice" routine. Next time let him have it!
Wow! I guess it's hard to get good help these days. Even at Target. The manager's name is Laura - maybe you should suggest some 10-key lessons for the employees.
And your couch? I'm so laughing. I love to know that things like that happen to other people. Maybe I won't potty-train Nicklaus after all......
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