My wife Sharon and I walked into a convenience store one wintry day, in search of a snow shovel. Convenience stores are the ideal place to buy snow shovels, especially when you don’t own a snow shovel, a humongo blizzard is predicted late on a Saturday night, and you live in an apartment complex that does a crappy job of plowing the parking lots.
We picked up a few sundries, as well as a small plastic shovel for $8.99, and walked to the counter. Sharon volunteered to pay for our items, which was nice. A haggard woman with a sour expression scanned our items with something less than glee. Looking to lighten the situation, I said to the woman, “The lady will be paying.”
She was not attempting to be funny. In fact, she didn’t seem to even be speaking just to us – it was more a statement she issued to the universe in general.
Her dismal response to us hinted at a lifetime of misery. “Be careful honey. We spend our whole lives paying. We pay…and pay…and pay…” She was not attempting to be funny. In fact, she didn’t seem to even be speaking just to us – it was more a statement she issued to the universe in general.
We took our bags and scurried out, spooked from the experience. Future home maintenance items were purchased from a home improvement store, to avoid further such incidents.
