Thursday, February 17, 2011

a long rant and my second Elvis encounter

Today I almost cussed someone out. I don't think I've ever cussed anyone out. It's not something I'm into doing. But somehow when you're dealing with the government....I mean.... I work for the government - I love 'them.' They're the ones who send me a check every month for babysitting teaching.  But 'they' really know how to raise someone's blood pressure. Let me explain.

Our school schedule rotates - which I love. This also means that my planning is never at the same time. On Thursdays my planning is last. I called (the government) yesterday to find out how I could get my fingerprints done (for the government) so I could get my Missouri teaching certificate (again for the government). They told me I could go to the Sheriff's office, Monday-Thursday between 1 and 4 p.m. I left school at 3 and finally found the place at 3:30. 
I still had 30 minutes, so I thought I still had plenty of time. I walked into the Sheriff's office. A lady was standing there filing and said she would be right with me. I waited probably about 2 minutes to get her attention. I asked if I could get my fingerprints done. She told me that it takes about 15 minutes to get the prints done; she then tells me sorry and that I'd have to come back another day because they don't accept anyone after 3:30. {It was 3:34, and they're supposed to operate until 4}. I told her I understand; however, I'm a teacher and I won't be able to come back for an entire week. Isn't there any way that I could get my prints done. She said, I'm sorry. It's after 3:30. At this point my blood pressure is way up and I can feel the blood pumping in my neck. {She's probably at home blogging right now about how rude teachers are.}

Then I go to Hobby Lobby, which is generally a pleasant place to shop and it was a way better experience than I had on Tuesday night. The girl who rang me up was in a fowl mood. It's one of those situations where they're throwing your stuff around because they don't want to be at work. I want to say, "Excuse me, you're being extremely rude. What did I do to you? If I could ring myself up I would; however, you're getting paid to do this. I hate that I'm interrupting your job."

Then Kroger was pretty good. I went to the giant Kroger - not the college one, or the Dwarf Kroger as I'd like to call it where it's so small you don't ever want to use a shopping cart because there just isn't room for you in the isles with that huge cart. But Giant Kroger - I finally know where everything is. When I walked in I saw firewood for sale, 2 bunches for $8. I'm thinking, "I'm not paying for wood. That's like paying for water." Then I'm standing by the veggies and an announcement comes over the intercom, "It's hard to shop at the end of a busy day (A-Men) when you have a really long shopping list (A-Men); what you really need is a tall glass of orange juice (wine - I think they meant to say WINE)."

When I checked out it was the type of situation where every line has about 8 people with overflowing shopping  carts. I try not to get frustrated, after-all it is 5:10 p.m. (prime grocery store shopping time), and I think it could be worse, Elvis could be checking me out. A teenage boy then opens a new lane and secretly motions for me to be the first. YES! Success. The sheriff's office really caused some new stress knots in my back. Thank you Lord. I say to the boy, "This just made my day." I meant every word. And then I look at the fella checking me out; it's my friend Elvis.*

And then I almost witnessed a fight in Wal-Mart over a Wii game. I'm too tired to write about it. It was just a lot of yelling and I hightailed it out of that area.

*I now wish I'd posted my first interaction with Elvis because it would make the last part of my story much more enjoyable. There was a time a few months ago when I shopped at the Giant Kroger. The Kroger is further away from our house, but it is bigger. I bought a few items. While I was checking out, my cashier was trying to get the attention of a teenage girl. I looked at his name-tag to see who this joker was; his tag said, "Elvis." {I remember thinking it was probably a fake name}. He was dazed and confused to say the least. It was the type of thing where I wanted to whip out my teacher voice, snap my fingers a few times and tell this teenager to focus and do his job. He is getting paid for this after-all. He kept on yelling things at the girl, as I was bagging my own groceries. A 3 minute check out turned into about a 10 minute one because of the girl.

On the way home, I thought how it should be illegal to have distracted, hormonal teens working the register. I came home only to find that the bag {with all of the expensive items -feta, brie, fresh pasta, granola} did not make it home. I was already frustrated and sweet Tom said he would go sort it out. 

Well, Tom had a similar experience with Elvis {who names their son Elvis anyway?} 

Tom drove out to the Giant Kroger to rectify the situation. Tom waited in the customer service line for about 10 minutes. Grandma in front of him said, "Everybody just want to be in this line, don't they?" he thought, "Not really." Tom got to the counter and asked about the items that we paid for but had not received. They told him to get the items that were missing and to bring them back to the counter. 

Tom did that and went back to the CS line which had gotten even longer. As Tom was standing there, he saw a dopey looking kid walk by with an Elvis name-tag, and he flagged him down. Tom showed him the receipt and said, "Elvis, do you have our stuff?" Elvis said, "Um, yeah. I think I know what you're talking about." Tom left the line and followed Elvis to his register. There were people waiting to buy their items, and Elvis said, "Hold on a minute" and walked off. So Tom stood there, not knowing where Elvis went and people were standing in line with all of their stuff. Everyone is waiting for Elvis to start the show. He came back about 5 minutes later and said, "Now, what do you need?" Tom explained the situation again and Elvis asked if Tom had all the stuff that he needed. Tom said yes {it was the stuff in his hands}. Then Elvis said, "Well what's the problem then?" Tom said, "So I can just walk out with this?" Elvis says, "Yeah." Tom says, "And no one is going to arrest me?" Elvis said, "No." Then Tom just walked out of the store with the stuff. 

Moral of the story: Do the job that you're getting paid to do.

1 comment:

  1. I think I about died after getting to the part during the Elvis story when Tom said " 'Elvis, do you have our stuff?' ". I'm actually loling right now...this cracks me up...I know 'Elvis' and the other cashiers and government workers all too well :)


I love comments. It's like getting mail.