BIG BOX STORE WOES
Just when I think I’m over big box store fiascos…..well, it happened again. I know, just stay out of those stores. BUT, there are some things there not available in my teeny weeny town I live in.
SO, I decide to expedite things, I would use the self check out line. I had THREE, yes 3 items. The first two scanned just fine, the last item ( an organizer type tray) did not have a scan code. The “helper” clerk came over and I informed her of the problem. She had to call her supervisor. This supervisor gave me a random price, fair, but random. The “helper” clerk proceeded to punch in the necessary data. When the machine asked for description of the item, she looked at me…blankly. I told her it was an organizer tray. She gave me a blank look, repeated the word organizer to me….and paused. I asked her if she would like me to spell organizer. She did. I then proceeded to spell it and when I got to “Z”, she looked at me and said , “Z”? ”Really”? Yes, I replied, there is a “z” in that word. She shrugged her shoulders and then punched in the price, a dollar less than the supervisor quoted. I felt I’d given her a dollars worth of spelling lessons.
JUST WHEN I THINK I’VE SEEN IT ALL
Just when I think I’ve seen it all, a woman passed me in the grocery store sporting a pink fuzzy bathrobe. She also had fuzzy slippers to match. Don’t people get dressed anymore when they leave the house?
Many times I’ll see people in our local mega discount store (name omitted, but can probably be guessed), wearing pajama bottoms, a sloppy t-shirt and thongs ( flip flops for those under 40). Do people not look in the mirror before they leave the house? I’m always amazed at the number of people out shopping, eating lunch, or having a pedicure in their pajamas. Has our culture become so lax we can’t even get dressed before we leave the house. Do people go to work in their nightclothes? Scrubs don’t count unless you sleep and work in them!
At any rate, the pink fuzzy robe took the slovenliness prize this week. Maybe I should give out prizes for this….you know, prizes that might include actual clothing so people could get dressed before they go out in public. Hmmm, something to ponder, spiffing up slobs one prize at a time! Really!!
THe retaining wall near my office is generally used by the hospital staff as a smoking rest area. They are not allowed to smoke near the hospital, so they cross the street, have a seat and puff away! For the most part, they are good citizens and clean up their butts, so no complaints from me.
Now there is a new purpose for this retaining wall. It’s become a tattoo “parlor” for the high schoolers on their lunch hour. I stopped by where they were inking, sans anything that looked sanitary to me. The “artist” assured me he sterilized the needle. Does that mean it’s a reusable one? I asked the tattoo-ee if he got an infection, would he feel bad if his arm fell off? He was pretty sure the conditions for doing this, while blood was running down his arm, were A-OK! I asked permission to take a photo and post it. All three were pretty excited about that! Fame!
So now, my retaining wall has to be shared by smokers and tattooists! I think they could get along.
PEOPLE DISASTERS
It seems every time I go to Wal-Mart, I have a “people disaster”. Not me, but others. At my age, it’s ALWAYS someone else. That is the really cool thing about getting older, it’s never me…!
One trip to above mentioned store resulted in the clerk not allowing me to use my credit card to purchase a gift card. When I told her I had a check, she wasn’t sure they could take that. I then mentioned that I banked at “Trampoline Savings and Loan” and they don’t bounce checks there. She looked at me, very puzzled, and mentioned that she’d never heard of that bank before?? Yikes!
Yesterday I went to Wal-Mart again. The poor dear in front of me was moving like a snail and had a maxed out cart Somehow a bottle of baby oil had leaked all over her items, the conveyor belt, and floor. She asked the clerk for a paper towel and was given two sheets. She proceeded to wipe up the oil off of her jumbo pack of toilet paper. MEANWHILE, the conveyor belt is moving right along and spreading the oil over everything. (SIGH)
I then asked the clerk for paper towels to wipe up the belt and the floor. She must’ve thought I was very capable, as she gave me the whole roll! I proceeded to mop up the floor. She came around and said she needed a “cone” and that she would not be able to help me! I had to go to a different check out. REALLY? After I mopped the floor, cleaned the belt, and tried to help the snail with her items I have to move on?
DOes anyone else have these frustrating moments in the big box stores, or is it just me?? I love the big box Home stores that advertise “garden experts”, but then they tell me to read the little plastic stick in the plant. Is it a perennial or an annual? DOes this plant like sun or shade? They say, “I don’t know, what does the little stick say”? They should advertise that they have little stick garden experts, not live people in the store. Don’t get me started on the paint department.
Tie-Dye Alive and Well!
Tie-dye is alive and well! I’ve been a witness to its presence numerous times in the past month. If you’re feeling nostalgic for the 70’s, acid dropping, torn patched jeans days, well then you’re in for a treat. Perhaps you have a 70’s themed party to attend? I can help.
Go to any local, small town festival, flea market, or street fair. You can find tie-dyed items ranging from baby onesies to scarves for your pooch. The last festival I attended, one week ago, tie-dyed items were abundant. Not only can they be purchased at vendor booths, many people walking around were sporting such items. Is this a blast from the past? Do only old hippies attend these events wearing and purchasing tie-dyed items? Have 70’s themed costume parties come in vogue? I’m sure there’s an answer to these questions. Perhaps I could get a government funded grant to research this and then we’d all know lies behind the resurgence of tie-dye?
Why is it?
Why is it when I’m on vacation where there is time to relax in the sun, plenty of deck chairs to sit in, and read a good book that some totally sloshed person decides to plop down next to me? DId I have a sign on my forehead that said, “never mind all the empty chairs, sit in the one next to the reading, relaxing person”?
Many times the sober challenged person will just pass out and start to snore. I can deal with snoring while reading, after all, I do that at home. It’s the person that is still at the “social level” of drinking that thinks I need to engage in conversation with them. Really, I am not anti social, but there is a time and place for everything, especially if I am reading a really good book!
This event, once again, happened to me on my most recent vacation. The “drunk” plopped down and began at once to talk. MInd you, this person also had one of those eyes that you’re not sure which eye to look at and the other eye was milky whitish like it had been smashed with a hammer! Remember there were certain marbles you could smash with a hammer and they would turn milky and crack? This was one of his eyes. The other roamed around like a gyroscope. I couldn’t decide which eye to look at, so I read, or attempted to read.
He proceeded to tell me how much money he made plowing snow in the mid-west and that’s why he was on vacation. He described all of his trucks, plowing equipment, and engine capacity. DId I look THAT interested? He then asked me “how old are you”? This is where the fun began (for me , at least). I’m 79 I told him. He thought I looked great for 79 and had a look of puzzlement on his face. I still couldn’t read the “eyes” though. In reality I’m 58, but it is fun to exaggerate a little and watch the response. ”Well, I’m 53” he says. He didn’t say anything for a bit, just the continued look of bewilderment! ”well, I guess you keep pretty well for an old gal”, he says. Hmm, hmm, he says over and over. I got up to leave, just had to go, and the fun was over for me. I would’ve loved to be a fly on the wall in his cabin as he described this 79 year old lady he just met.
Is it “catchy”?
I went to Wal-Mart today to change a watch battery. When I approached the clerk, she told me they only change batteries on watches they sell in their store. I pulled out my “takes a lickin’ , keeps on tickin’” Timex. She proceeded to pry at the back of my watch with an eyeglasses screwdriver. After a time, the clerk decided it was futile and told me I’d have to do it myself. I asked for the screwdriver, which by this time she was scratching her head with it. ”Oh no, you can’t have this, you might jab your finger with it and sue us” Really? I told her I didn’t want her screwdriver she was digging at her scalp since I might catch something, if I jabbed my finger. Then who sues who???
I left the store, went home, took off the back of my trusty Timex and went to a competitor store and bought my battery. The watch is now working and I did it all myself, no thanks to you Wal-Mart!!! THanks for the laugh today Wal-Mart, Do you hire these people just to entertain the rest of us?
NURTURE OR NATURE??
I have lived in a rural community for the past 30 some years. We are also surrounded by a number of other rural communities. In one such town,in which the name shall not be mentioned, I noticed a trend of the women to wear ultra thick “raccoon style” eyeliner. This has not changed over the past 30 years, pretty much since I’ve lived in this area.
I first noticed this “look” when my daughter was in middle school about 15 years ago. We would drive over to the unnamed community to watch volleyball, football or some other sport. At first it seemed just the dance team had this dark eyed sultry look, but then I looked around in the bleachers and noticed many of the adult women had this same “look”. No, it couldn’t be, I thought to myself. Then to my wondering eyes they appeared! Yes, even the grandmas were sporting the raccoon eyeliner look.
Now, this IS odd, I think to myself. I embarked on taking a non official poll. Whenever I would drive up to a fast food window and the young girl opened it up, I would notice how carefully made up the eyes were, and if they paid special extra attention to their eyes, AND particularly if they were encircled with a thick black pencil (think Sharpie). Casually, I would ask, “are you from _____?” More often than not, they would say yes.
I told my daughter of my discovery and my non official poll. She laughed at me! Imagine! A semi-scientific discovery and I get laughed at. One particular day we went through the fast food drive up and the person opening the window had that “raccoon look”. ”Are you from ____”, I ask? Why yes, she replied, how do you know? I told her she looked like someone I knew from that area (every female?). I then looked at my daughter with my best “I told you so look”. Moms are good at that, you know.
So, as time has gone on and I have seen so many women from that town with the “raccoon look” I ask you now is it nurture or nature?
