Tis the Season

I went shopping yesterday. At a toy store. I won't tell you which one, but it rhymes with Hit Me With a Bus.

I don't love toy stores, but you know, tis the season, and there was a sale. Allegedly. I guess it was a sale, but the ad I saw online said something about 50% off, and since I don't have  time to read the fine print--ever--I assumed that meant 50% off the toys. I didn't know it meant that, by the time I left, I would have lost 50% of my sanity.

I had a list. And limited time. I needed a truck. A bat cave. A tool set. A doll. An art set. And a pirate ship. How hard could this be? I envisioned walking in, looking at my list, finding said toys, putting them in the cart, paying, and leaving.

My visions, however, did not include all the other people. They never do. That's the problem with visions. The important parts are often left out. And the other people, in this case, were quite important. I mean, some of them made it abundantly clear, as they attempted to run me over with their overflowing carts of made in china crap that were, obviously, very important. One in particular made it clear that she was obviously even more important, as she stared at me from the opposite end of an over crowded aisle. Someone was going to have to move if we were both going to get our overflowing carts of made in china pieces of crap out of this aisle.

I don't mind saying that I am usually the mover. I will back up. I will go around. I don't care. I won't engage in Holiday shopping cart rage. I tend to think that's not what Christmas is all about. So as we eyed each other from opposite ends of the aisle, I knew that this could turn into a game of Shopping Cart Chicken, or I could back up into the main aisle, so she could get through. And as I looked at our ridiculously narrow aisle and smiled at my fellow shopper, I was getting ready to do just that.

Except that she didn't smile back.

In fact, she stared at me, as if I had somehow inconvenienced her. Just by being there. In the toy store that rhymes with Hit Me With a Bus. And then, from the opposite end of the aisle, she said "Excuse Me", which is generally a very polite term, except in those cases when you really mean "Excuse me, you will need to back up so I can get through the aisle. Because there's no way I am backing up so that you can get through the aisle".

I'm sure you can guess what I did next.

I backed up. Duh.

She gave me a half smile as she passed. Or maybe it was a half smirk. In either case, it looked much more smirky than smiley. But since she didn't actually speak, I'm thinking it must have been code for Thank You. So, I did what anyone does when someone says Thank you.

I smiled and sweetly said "Oh, you're welcome!"

And then I watched her run into the rather large stack of Barbies in the middle aisle.

Oops.

I found most of what I needed, but when I was looking at the art sets, which were allegedly 50% off, there seemed to be a minor issue with price tags. As in, there weren't any. Anywhere.

I found a clerk. His name was Clark. Really, his name tag said exactly that.

Clark.

Clerk.

Clark, however, was not a happy clerk. He sighed at me when I asked him if he had a circular with the sale prices in it. Then he slowly took a circular from the shopping cart in front of him, and appeared as if he was even going to open it. Except that he didn't. He just stared at it. Eventually, he turned the pages. Without looking at them. Then he asked me what art set I was looking for. I told him the one that was on 50% off. He said it was hard to know, because they had so many. Then he sighed again. He asked me what sale day I was talking about. Was it for Tuesdays sale, or Wednesdays sale?

Um, well, since today was Wednesday, I was kind of thinking Wednesdays sale.

But then I wondered if that was his way of asking me what day it was, and I started feeling kind of bad for Clark. I got the impression that Clark had been a clerk for a really long time, and he's got to be sick of dealing with important people and their overflowing shopping carts, and their stupid art sets.

In fact, I started thinking that I should just leave Clark alone.  Mainly because, as Clark the clerk stood there, with a circular in his hand that he was occasionally sort of, kind of looking at,  it wasn't clear if he was actually helping me, or taking a long over due break.

But as I thanked him for checking and started to walk away, he must have felt bad for me, too. He said we could go look at the art sets together. So we did. Eventually. First, Clark and I wandered around for several minutes, dodging overflowing shopping carts, and their important, hostile drivers. And as we did, I thought, no wonder Clark sighs so much.

Eventually, we found the art sets. Clark found me one that was 50% off, and I was on my way. Through more shopping carts. More important people. More sighing clerks.

And a pile of Barbies in the middle of the aisle.

I said Excuse Me, but they didn't move. So I ran them over.

Cause I'm important that way.