Loving The Little Things

I was feeling pretty bitchy when I returned from California... conflicted about leaving "home" to come "home."

I'm torn between the place that feels like home and the place where I've made a home. I'm sad to say it, but where my stuff lives does not feel like home.

In the midst of my pique I was goofing off on Facebook and found myself laughing out loud at friends' hilarious comments on various status messages, links & such.

It was a great reminder of how fortunate I am to have these people in my life. I might be too far away from them for now, but at least I have their hysterical words to tide me over. It's a small thing, but it means the world to me.

In the meantime, I continue to observe and report on this weird place we live in...

For example - I've noticed every time I go to the Save-On-Foods, when I'm walking up to the store from the parking lot, I can hear the Muzak playing some random song from the 50s or 60s, but as soon as I enter the store, it switches to a fabulous 80s soundtrack.

HOW DO THEY KNOW I prefer the 80s music? Are they watching shoppers enter the store, guessing the median age and then changing the music accordingly? I'm starting to believe they are. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous. Come run your own tests. You'll see what I'm talking about.

At the local hardware store, ye olde Canadian Tire, I keep getting the same snarky checker who, on some days is Super Bitch and other days Super Nice. The funny thing about her is, bitchy or nice, she doesn't communicate any information about the transaction she's performing.

She says Hello and that's it. You're on your own after that.

When I returned/exchanged something one day, she processed all the paperwork and left the item I intended to buy on the counter exactly where I'd set it down.

She said nothing the entire time, so I had no idea that she'd already processed the credit, rang up the new item and used the credit toward the purchase of the new item.

When she finished silently shuffling papers and receipts, I pointed to the thing I'd intended to buy and told her I needed to pay for it.

She just stared at me. It was like a deer was running the till. She stared at me for a few seconds, then I watched her mouth slowly start to form words.

Like I'd just asked her to explain quantum physics, she struggled to explained that she'd already processed the credit toward the new item and I was all done.

You have to wonder - is she always stunned when people don't understand what's just happened? Does she think we're using telepathy to know what she's doing?

I'm so tempted to suggest to her that she might want to, I don't know, maybe pick up the item and move it across the counter and perhaps into a bag, or ask the person if they want a bag, or maybe say, "Thanks very much," to audibly indicate the transaction has been completed. Anything would help - say SOMEthing so we don't have to stand there like total idiots wondering what the hell is happening.

But I'm cutting her some slack, because I've worked that register where all the freaks come to return things. It means a bunch of lame paperwork, processing the refund, re-labeling, repackaging & restocking the crap - it's a pain in the ass. I copped an attitude more than once, but - BUT - I was still able to use my words to communicate with the customers. I'm just sayin.