What a morning!
It started off great with a trip to the car doctor, AKA Toyota Dealership service center to get the oil changed in my lovely wife’s car.
Somehow, I find it quite entertaining to sit in these places every now and then. It’s not like I go there weekly just to sit at the little make-shift cafe tables or anything, but when the opportunity arises (when a car needs some professional attention), I sometimes prefer to wait rather than leave the premises.
It was oddly quiet in there, library-like, most everyone reading a newspaper or jotting notes on paper. Their was a lovely lady to my right (an older lady) who was enjoying a small snack (which she had brought in a plastic bag) while sipping her FREE cappuccino that she had obtained from this new fan dangled machine after a brief lesson from another customer. She, too, was reading the newspaper.
Then, of course, their was the lady who walked in wearing one pink and one yellow sneaker. What’s that about? hmmm....
I always enjoy people watching. Whether at a car dealership, coffee shop, or just out on the street. I can be entertained for hours. As it turns out, the dealership was BY FAR the best time of my morning’s adventures. The rest of the trip went something like this:
While at the dealership, I discover that the registration for wifey’s car was two months overdue. This is not good. Driving with expired registration is bad. So, with fingers crossed, I leave the dealership en route to the DMV. Quick phone call to Lady M, and she says not to worry, it’s registered and the card is in her wallet. “Phew”, I say, and direct my travels to Shop Rite to purchase Lassie’s best dog food for our canine companions.
Phone rings (I have now passed the DMV).
Lady M: “uh...this is a 2005 card...I guess it’s not registered”
Me: “ugh...great....all right, I’ll go back to the DMV after Shop Rite...I’ll just get cash at the store”
I arrive at Shop Rite and head directly to the rest room - too much coffee. I enter the rest room to find three young female employees laughing and having a loud conversation. As I walk in, the three become silent for the moment that it takes me to enter the stall, then their conversation went something like this:
Obnoxious teenager # 1: “Fag”
Obnoxious teenager # 2: “You’re gay”
Obnoxious teenager #1: “You’re a faggot”
Obnoxious teenager # 2: “Lesbian”
Obnoxious teenager # 3: “You know it. That’s actually a complement for me”
All three obnoxious teenagers break into hooting laughter and indecipherable profanities and other rude utterances as they make their way into the hallway.
Perhaps I am becoming a prude, or just a bitter old maid, I don’t know. Regardless, I was beyond irritated with these three, and perhaps even a bit intimidated. Actually, I think I was most aggravated by the fact that I couldn’t pee until they left....fight or flight had set in. I was ready to fight, and my bladder decided to help by not releasing anything that may come in useful in battle.
As I left the rest room, I could still hear the obnoxious laughter and banter making its way down the steps and out into the store. As a former store manager (clothing), I would have been mortified to see my associates behaving like this in front of customers.
“The ‘Warrioress’ must take action,” I thought. Since I left my sword at home, I decided to march straight to customer service and request the presence of a manager. In a very “Warrioress -like” way, I explained the situation to the manager and he immediately knew the three individuals that I was referring to. He assured me that he would turn the matter over to his HR manager and the situation would be dealt with accordingly.
Mission accomplished. Almost. Still need the dog food and have no desire to speak with another store associate. Thank goodness for self-checkout. (NOT! and the hits just keep on coming.....)
With my trusty bag of Lassie’s Best, I pitter patter over to the self checkout aisle where Earl (not sure of his name, but we’ll call him Earl, the keeper of the Self-Checkout lanes) watches my every move, then provides me with a pretty orange paid sticker on my bag. Earl continues to hover behind me as I complete my transaction using the pin pad device as directed by the computer terminal. I happily request a cash back amount of $50.00 (DMV, remember?) and press ENTER.
The machine whirrs, and whirrs, and whirrs, and doesn’t give me any money. Earl, observing the travesty, comes to my aid. He feverishly punches in his password and code, and like any hero would, reads the instructions on screen. The screen says that it is having a problem dispensing $10.00 bills and that the tray should be removed and checked. Earl exits the screen and valiantly struts to his phone to request assistance.
I hear: (Earl) “Oh, really, court? Not here, huh? OK. So, I should just ask him to leave his name and phone number and tell him that we’ll call him when Mike gets back?”
At this, I interject, “If you are referring to ME when you say Him and His name and number, that is completely unacceptable and I am not leaving this store without my money!”
To make a very long story a bit shorter, it took 3 store associates and me nearly shedding a tear to come to the understanding that I would absolutely not leave my name and phone number in the hope that “Mike” would soon return from court to retrieve my money from that particular register. AND, I am not “Him, His, or SIR”. (I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, for G’s Sake! I know I’m not well endowed, but there is something visible above the waist!)
What were these people thinking? I have been out of retail for a few years now, but has it changed that much? I never would have dreamed of sending a customer away without their change, let alone a direct debit from their bank account!
Finally I got my money, and do you know where they got it? Such trouble these people went to....they had to reach below Earls terminal, into a zippered bag, and pull out $50.00. Wow. Later, they will have to replace it from the drawer of the bastard register that would not dispense $10’s. And, Gee, the customer left (somewhat) satisfied - after nearly 20 minutes of “discussion”.
The DMV, btw, was not a success story either. As it turns out, the registered owner of the vehicle must register in person or have a notarized form indicating permission for another individual to complete said transaction.
This all occurred prior to 10:00 AM.
The Moral of my story?
Hmmm....People-watching is fun, Shop Rite is not, and you might as well just sleep ‘til noon.
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