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I took my daughter with me to Payless near our house to hunt for some cheap clogs. I've never owned clogs before, and I'll be damned if I'm going to fork over a big chunk of moolah then find out I hate them. While I was there, I noticed my purse hanging on my shoulder differently, and discovered that the strap was on it's last legs (yes, I pack it too full, way too full). Shockingly enough, I found comfy and adorable clogs in a nice dark gray color, as well as a downright perfect purse- right size, right color, right price. Both were even on sale. And I found both of them before my daughter showed any signs of having a "I'm getting bored" meltdown. At the rate I was going, my next stop would have been to buy some lottery tickets.
I should have known it was too good to last.
As we walk up to the cash register, I notice a SEVERLY bitchy and uptight looking middle aged woman with shoeboxes piled high instructing the cashier how to process a return. Of course this is no normal return. (Don't you just love it when God has a sense of humor?)
She bought five pairs of shoes in varying sizes, I assume for herself and her spawn.... She wanted to return them, but apparently one of the returns was actually an exchange and someone told her that a certain shoe was in stock and it wasn't and she wanted the cashier to call every Payless in the tri-state area looking for it so they could have it shipped here for her majesty.
(Note to self- when demanding above and beyond service- make sure you're at Saks or Talbots, not freakin Payless). So, she finally resigned herself to the fact that this wasn't possible. Was it over?
Not likely. It is at this point, that the cashier sees beyond this woman's smoke and mirrors and sees that there are only four shoe boxes on the counter. "What?! Well what did you do with the fifth pair?" (Yeah, I'm sure with you breathing down her neck that she found a few extra seconds to hide them up her ass) The cashier looks at her like WTF? At this point, my oh-so-understanding toddler finally loses her cool and demands to go look out the window. I let loose with a little passive-aggression (Well, we can't honey, we're waiting in line and I know it's been QUITE A WHILE, but hopefully we can LEAVE SOON ). Needless to say, queen bitch is deaf to all but her own demands. And I'm on to her- she thinks that with me and my daughter in line behind her that it will fluster the cashier, ESPECIALLY if my daughter decides to throw a fit. No way lady, I'm not helping you. So, in my loudest unleash-inner-bitch voice I say "Come on honey, let's go look at the Dora backpacks for a while- then they can finish up here" I knew I was right b/c she actually shot me a dirty look- which I countered nicely.
So then she has the girl process it as a normal return and to call her if the oh-so-important pair of shoes miraculously shows up. So the cashier does, then the lady loses it. The cashier had the NERVE to give her a NEW RECEIPT showing the returns and planned to keep the original receipt for her records. The woman practically shit a brick. She insisted that she NEEDED THAT RECEIPT FOR HER RECORDS, and there was much panting and arm waving and nail tapping. She was so animated, my daughter put down the backpack and sat down to watch the crazy woman. She needed it so bad, to make sure that it came off her account and blah blah blah. So then she started bargaining- why don't they just take a copy of it (no can do). Well she can go get a copy at the store and bring it back (nope). More huffing and puffing.
Finally after another 10 minutes of her fits, she accepts that life is just not fair and takes her new receipt and vows never to step foot in there again.
I couldn't help it.
It was too much to resist.
It was like dangling a hunk of filet in front of a rottweiler. You can't hold back, IT'S RIGHT THERE!
So, before she reached the door to leave, and as I collected my daughter to finally go pay for our stuff, I said it.
PITA: I'm never EVER shopping here again.
Me: Don't get my hopes up like that!
Bitch hit the door so hard on her way out I think she may have a broken elbow. Serves her right.
I should have known it was too good to last.
As we walk up to the cash register, I notice a SEVERLY bitchy and uptight looking middle aged woman with shoeboxes piled high instructing the cashier how to process a return. Of course this is no normal return. (Don't you just love it when God has a sense of humor?)
She bought five pairs of shoes in varying sizes, I assume for herself and her spawn.... She wanted to return them, but apparently one of the returns was actually an exchange and someone told her that a certain shoe was in stock and it wasn't and she wanted the cashier to call every Payless in the tri-state area looking for it so they could have it shipped here for her majesty.
(Note to self- when demanding above and beyond service- make sure you're at Saks or Talbots, not freakin Payless). So, she finally resigned herself to the fact that this wasn't possible. Was it over?
Not likely. It is at this point, that the cashier sees beyond this woman's smoke and mirrors and sees that there are only four shoe boxes on the counter. "What?! Well what did you do with the fifth pair?" (Yeah, I'm sure with you breathing down her neck that she found a few extra seconds to hide them up her ass) The cashier looks at her like WTF? At this point, my oh-so-understanding toddler finally loses her cool and demands to go look out the window. I let loose with a little passive-aggression (Well, we can't honey, we're waiting in line and I know it's been QUITE A WHILE, but hopefully we can LEAVE SOON ). Needless to say, queen bitch is deaf to all but her own demands. And I'm on to her- she thinks that with me and my daughter in line behind her that it will fluster the cashier, ESPECIALLY if my daughter decides to throw a fit. No way lady, I'm not helping you. So, in my loudest unleash-inner-bitch voice I say "Come on honey, let's go look at the Dora backpacks for a while- then they can finish up here" I knew I was right b/c she actually shot me a dirty look- which I countered nicely.
So then she has the girl process it as a normal return and to call her if the oh-so-important pair of shoes miraculously shows up. So the cashier does, then the lady loses it. The cashier had the NERVE to give her a NEW RECEIPT showing the returns and planned to keep the original receipt for her records. The woman practically shit a brick. She insisted that she NEEDED THAT RECEIPT FOR HER RECORDS, and there was much panting and arm waving and nail tapping. She was so animated, my daughter put down the backpack and sat down to watch the crazy woman. She needed it so bad, to make sure that it came off her account and blah blah blah. So then she started bargaining- why don't they just take a copy of it (no can do). Well she can go get a copy at the store and bring it back (nope). More huffing and puffing.
Finally after another 10 minutes of her fits, she accepts that life is just not fair and takes her new receipt and vows never to step foot in there again.
I couldn't help it.
It was too much to resist.
It was like dangling a hunk of filet in front of a rottweiler. You can't hold back, IT'S RIGHT THERE!
So, before she reached the door to leave, and as I collected my daughter to finally go pay for our stuff, I said it.
PITA: I'm never EVER shopping here again.
Me: Don't get my hopes up like that!
Bitch hit the door so hard on her way out I think she may have a broken elbow. Serves her right.
I would have done the same thing in your situation.
) againt northern aggression.
I'm in southwestern Ohio though, where people drive slower than shit in their giant hipped trucks (WHO needs 6 wheels to get to church and bob evans???) and my tiny old accord and I can't see around them unless I pass them on the right, going 90, tying my shoes and talking on the phone.
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