Wednesday was the last day I remember getting a full night of rest (for me that's 4 hours of continuous sleep). Once I woke up Thursday morning I was awake all of that day, into the next and kept on trucking until 11:45 Friday night when I crashed and burned simply because of the necessity of medical intervention (damn it I was chewed on again by a bug).
Friday, I have the car ....it must mean that I have my check in the mail which gives me the day to run all of the errands that I try to cram in for the entire month. Bank, two grocery stores, the pet supply and since I've nabbed the car I'll be required to return to luncheon with hubby because he doesn't have wheels to get his own.
Needless to say I am running on fumes and this can either make me giddy or it can make me cranky but either way I'm not hitting on all my cylinders and somethings going to crack.
I start my shopping through the store, heading this way and that willy-nilly. First trying to hit all the dry goods and then going back through to get the cold items like meat and dairy. I honestly should plan my shopping trips like the little old ladies that push their buggies one handed while clutching scraps of paper with flowery scrawled lists of items that are must-haves for their pantry.
They are diligent wives that plan the meals for the week, knowing exactly what they are going to prepare or worse yet - they probably prepare the same meals week after week, year after year.
More than likely the list is reused once monthly and another 3 lists are picked out..for the other 3 weeks of the month.
I head into the store and start thinking of menu items off the top of my head usually by proteins that I want to eat, almost always these involve chicken and beef. I hate fish products but buy at least one for the man since he adores the swimmy critters.
Once I know what flesh I'm going to consume, I start to add vegetables and the necessary goodies to compliment them.
Closing up the trip, I've pretty much filled the basket and chatted to everyone I know and some that I don't. I then added up in my mind what I figure I can afford in my budget I head to the lane that looks the shortest.
The lane I've chosen is being headed by a retiree, she's a sweet grey-haired gal and her bagger is even older and looks a bit like the Crypt Keeper but I'm reserving my opinion that they can handle the job for the moment and I start unpacking my shit onto the conveyor belt watching it trolley forward into the wrinkled hands of my cashier.
"How are you today?" she greets me and I respond with my usual cheerful howdy and we exchange pleasantries including how she was impressed with my amazing steal on the chicken (I found 4 bags of chicken quarters for $3.00/8# bags!!!)
Before too long it was time to pay, I attempted to use my debit card which was declined -- always fun and a moment of enjoyment do I either laugh at this or find mortification. I'd just deposited my check; so obviously it hadn't hit the account yet, I'd have to suck it up and use the cash I had.
She says, "that comes to $159.24"
I count up $160.00 in twenty dollar bills and she watches me (so does the Crypt Keeper) and I hand it over and then go back to looking inside of my purse because my cell phone just lit up from a new text message (CHRISTINE!).
When I glance over she's just finished counting the 20's and she says, "This is only $140 and I watch her count it again and sure enough I see her count seven bills.
Well this makes me fly off the handle. I go from white zone to red zone immediately and I state to her, "Well you'd better find that $20.00 right this instant because I am NOT leaving this building until you do. OBVIOUSLY you've dropped it somewhere because you and I both know that I gave you $160.00 and I am NOT going to return any items, I am not going to leave the store without my groceries and I did not short you any money. So start looking around lady"
The look of surprise, the gasp of breath she took in and the immediate action she took was not a surprise because I was pretty damn firm with my demands. She quickly bent down to the floor and start scrambling about looking under the register, behind the bags even lifting the floor mat - which by the way, theres absolutely no way for it to have creeped under but I think she was desperate to find it before I punched her wrinkled face in.
Then I start in and say, "Maybe it's slipped in between the belt and the other side of this partition, look down between there."
Whatever happens, I'm not leaving and the bagger is even starting to make antsy movements as if she's about to come around to assist in this scavenger hunt for my Andrew Jackson.
She's apologizing all over herself, "Ma'am I don't know where it has gone, I can call a manager but its disappeared are you sure you gave it to me..?"
to which I said, "I'm certain but just to make sure let me look inside my bag..."
There between my debit card which I'd just had declined and my drivers license which I had just shown to her for the 2 bottles of wine purchased (my ever so young face gets me in trouble with the older cashiers)...sat...Mr Jackson.
He was folded tightly not once but twice, tightly, snugged between and hiding like a naughty school boy.
As if to say, NO please don't make me go away. You need me, in these desperate times you need me most of all.
So chagrined, I had to dig in and say - "Well I suppose I have to say I'm sorry because it appears I've counted one of those twenties 2x and this was hiding all along. Please accept my sincere apologies.."
She gave a small nervous laugh and said, "Don't you worry one bit because I watched you count that money and saw you count $160.00 the first time. I just had to count it again because its my job. If I hadn't and my drawer was short I'd lose my job!"
To which I replied..."I think both of us pooped our pants today"
"Yes, I sure did" she said....
"and so did I" the bagger said..."so did I"...
I really should get some sleep before going out in the big world
