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2003-12-08 6:18 p.m. |
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Old people were not my friends today. I went to Hancock Fabrics to pick up some organza for a project I've got going. Not a big deal... I found what I was looking for and took it to the counter to be cut. On the way to said counter, I passed one of the staff. She was talking to another customer and I waited on the other side of the counter from them. They both saw me. The staff member finished her conversation and then went to the front end to operate the register. Ok. Not a big deal. Then another staff-person walked by me and was dinking around with some material bolts. She came back to the counter, walked right up next to me and then put a wad of horrid leopard-print felt on TOP of my material. I moved it out of the way and continued to wait. I mentioned to my brother that I could maybe cut the material myself but didn’t think I was supposed to. I figured if I WAS supposed to, the staff-person would say so. Nothin’. So I waited and another woman walked up and said ‘who’s next?’ in an irritated tone. I was going to let the other woman at the other side of the counter go first but she said, “Go ahead and get her. I’ve got a lot of stuff.” So the woman cuts my material and tosses it to her side towards me. Then slaps down her ticket book, sighs mightily and writes out the ticket. And tosses the ticket in my general direction. Never even ONCE looked up at me. I was clearly not only in the way, but taking up time she could have been spending sorting buttons. My. Bad. My brother took it upon himself to voice my opinion when he stated, quite loudly, “I fucking hate old people sometimes.” I don’t think there’s anything inherently evil about the old people I run into. I just think that the vast majority of them have somewhere along the line become so convinced that young people are all rude, mean, nasty creatures that they’ve taken on the habits they once found troublesome.
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.p.r.o.l.o.g.u.e.
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2005-03-12 - 2005-03-12 |
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