Wednesday, December 20, 2006
#1 Reason Why Mary Does Not Like to Shop at Christmas:
But let me clarify and qualify that statement, if I may. When it comes to kids, taking care of sick people, old people behind the wheel, or holding out for the best price on something I really want, I am extraordinarily patient. I gots me lots of patience for that kinda stuff, because that stuff matters. Shoot, I’m even patient waiting in line for my turn to pay for stuff - even if it’s a long line. I recognize that everyone must be served one at a time, and everyone is going as fast as they can. But once I’m at the register, and I’m ready to pay, and store clerk shoots me a dirty look as if it’s my fault I picked a pair of pajama bottoms that DON’T have a tag on them, then I become irked. (Sir, if you’d like me to bring in my own tags before I patronize this retail establishment, perhaps you might post that on the door.) Moreover, if store clerk dials for a price check and Ms. Heinz 57 Hyphen It’ll Take Me An Hour to Get There answers the call, I start to shift my feet and look a little worn. Furthermore, when Heinz finally appears and proceeds to tell me that I’ve selected a pair of pajama bottoms that are part of a two-piece pajama SET, even if I found them on a mile-long rack of bottoms only, no tops in sight, and the bottoms I selected were available in several sizes hanging on said rack, and if 57 goes on to say I can’t have just the bottoms because they’re part of a two-piece pajama SET, AND that I’ll lose my place in line if I go back to make another selection, well snickety-boo - - that’s when I start to say not-so-nice things like this: “No. Sorry. Here is what’s going to happen. You’re going to hold my place while I go back to Lingerie and quickly make another selection. I am not going to the back of the line.” Then I leave before anyone can respond. That’s when you know I’m out of patience.
But you should see me if someone throws up on my shoes. Perfect saint.
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