The store manager and I have already become fast friends, and it’s almost a running joke at this point, although I’m sure he doesn’t actually think it’s funny when he sees me, and I am not amused that it keeps happening.
Like yesterday.
I had two manufacturers’ coupons, each for a dollar, and I
handed them to the cashier before he began ringing up my items. I then went to
the end of the belt and began bagging. Quickly
enough, he gave me the total, and as soon as I swiped my credit card, announced he’d forgotten the coupons. Aargh. Again?? At least this time, I was still in the store.
I headed over to the “Courtesy Counter” where I found … no
one. My mild
irritation began to morph beyond aggravation and veer toward exasperation. I walked back to the cashier and asked how to
get someone to help me. A search ensued,
several minutes passed, and finally, a young man appeared to process the
transaction. Did I want the credit on
the card I’d used or would cash be okay? Cash, please. Much quicker, and
this has taken FAR too long already.
Now, before you think I am making way too much of this, you
have to understand this is at least the fourth time I’ve had a problem like
this in this store. Corporate knows
about it, the cashiers have (supposedly) had extra instruction, and I’ve been
assured they’re being vigilant.
Oh, yeah, I can see that.
I took my two bucks, turned my wagon around and, fueled by a
roiling sense of indignation, rolled out of the store.
Smack into a slim, distinguished looking
older man holding a handful of small silk flowers. Not gonna lie -- the same man I brushed right past on my way
in, and had already plotted how to avoid on the way out. A former serviceman collecting donations for the
Veterans of Foreign Wars.
VFW "Buddy Poppies" are assembled by disabled, needy and aging
veterans in VA Hospitals and Veterans Homes across the country. The money raised from the campaign is used
for the welfare of veterans or their dependents or orphans. It helps maintain rehab and service programs
for these men and women who risked, and sometimes lost, their lives for our country.
Suddenly, the two singles I got back for my coupons had a
whole lot more meaning, reminding me that it's really not that big a deal to forget some things, but we must always remember some others. Umbrage gave way
to gratitude. The scowl I’m sure I was
wearing became a smile.
“How much are the flowers?” I asked.
“Whatever you care to donate,” he said.
Two bucks it is, sir, and thank you VERY MUCH for your
service.
