Tuesday, July 20, 2010


“Why are you playing games with me,” she started screaming. “I bought the plates here, they’re broken and I want my money back.” She was getting red in the face.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the clerk said, obviously working at maintaining a polite demeanor. “But you’re receipt is over four years old and you’ve admitted that you froze the plates then dropped them on a stone floor taking them out of the freezer.”

“I accidentally dropped them, you moron,” she screamed. “Why aren’t you listening to me? They were slippery and I dropped them, ac-ci-den-tal-ly,” putting extra emphasis on each syllable of the last word.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I understand. You dropped them accidentally. But you’re …”

She interrupted him. “They’re supposed to be unbreakable and they broke. I want my money back. Just gimme my money back. Don’t you understand English?”

“Yes ma’am. But the warranty on the …”
“Don’t tell me something I don’t want to hear,” she interrupted, again. “Just give me my money back.”

“But I can’t ma’am. The manager says the warranty is …”

“I don’t want to hear about no damn warranty. The plates are unbreakable and they broke. Just give me my money.”

“I can’t ma’am, because the …”

“I want to talk to the manager, you dummy. Get me a manager.”

“You’ve already spoken with her, ma’am. She said …”

“Are you all on stupid pills here? I want to talk to the owner then. I want my money.”

The well-dressed gentleman standing in line behind her and in front of me, touched her shoulder and said, “Ma’am, here’s $40 and my apology for making this so difficult for you. As soon as you leave, I will have a discussion with the young clerk about this incident.”

“Well it’s about time, young man,” she said. “All I wanted was my money back. I don’t understand why you just couldn’t give it to me in the beginning. When I get home, I’m going to call my friend and tell her what happened and we may stop shopping here.”

“I understand, ma’am. And I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant.”

She half-stomped away, shaking her head and muttering, “I just wanted my money back, that’s all. I just wanted my money.”

“Can I help you, sir?” the young clerk asked the gentleman. “And if you don’t mind, sir, could you tell me why you did that?”

“Sure,” he said. “It was worth the $40 to me to bring a little sanity to the situation and to the lady’s life. It was a relatively cheap price to pay for peace.”

And so it was.

No comments:

Post a Comment