How I tore a muscle in my calf or how I got material for a blog. Both good subtitles.
It is Pier 1's fault. I wanted a chair for my upstairs landing, so Pier 1 sent me a really good coupon. See. Their fault, completely, but they are even more complicit. I found the chair I wanted online. I ordered it, plus a cushion, and I used the coupon. (Really good coupon. I can't say no to a really good coupon.) They sent me an email saying hey you ordered shizz. Then they sent me an email saying your order is ready. This is the significant part. "Your order is ready." I have quoted and thus it is official. "YOUR ORDER IS READY!" In my mind I add the bitch part.
|This is the only Pier 1 meme I could find.|
You know I just saw The Blues Brothers and there was a Pier 1
in the mall they drove through. Just sayin'.
I stood there while the clerk stared at her computer. Finally she pushed a button. She pushed a few more. Then she stopped and started staring at the email. She checked the email again. I decided to take a deep breath. She stopped to ask me if I had ordered it online. To myself I said, "Isn't that what the email says?" To her I nodded because I hadn't yet passed the point of no return.
|This is a meme break because I couldn't find|
any more Pier 1 memes. I thought it was funny
and it is my blog.
At this point in time customers came up to the other counter and waited on her to get to them. I felt sorry for them because she didn't say anything to them either. She just stared at A) the computer, B) the email, or C) the buttons on the keyboard.
|Now this song is going through my head.|
Also it's really funny to watch The Blues Brothers
while you're on painkillers.
That was the point where if I had been a grenade I would have exploded and fragged the whole store and thought nothing about it. I said, "The email says the order is ready." I might have been somewhat snippy.
Then I relented because the poor people waiting on the clerk looked like they were about to blow a gasket. I said, "Go ahead and check them out."
However, this is what happens when I am generous. She took ten minutes to check them out because she obviously had issues with the computer, her brain, items on sale, and anything in front of her. I was looking at tables because I wanted to distract myself.
|This part happens later in the blog. I didn't realize how long I could|
rant about this subject. Must have been saving up.
Five seconds, FIVE SECONDS, later the second clerk pushed a button and said, "Oh, yes, it's here. I just saw the chair. Let me make sure the rest of the order is there and I'll have you drive around to the back so we can load it."
So after twenty minutes and five seconds, I was ready to confirm I had an order. It wasn't like I was waiting behind three other people including two clowns and Michelle Obama. I was the ONLY one there when I first came in. It was not busy. I subject to anyone who's done retail sales that if you really don't know what to do after a minute or two of just standing there, then call the other clerk who she has to know is in the back of the store, not feet away from her. Jeez. Is that so hard to do?
Anyway, she confirms the order is all there, tells me to pull around to the back. I do so, open the doors, and clerks one and two carry the chair and the cushion out. It was a team effort by that time. I wanted to yank it out of their hands and throw it into the Explorer so I could escape.
|No, but I have tackled other things.|
I reached to the middle seat, where it's got a little handle on one side, to pull it, and thus pull the seat forward. I reached, and I stepped onto the step. I couldn't quite reach it. Then I got it, and as I got it, I heard the sound of material ripping. Rippppppped.
|I guess it was a good thing I didn't have a chainsaw|
in the car.
I honestly thought I had ripped my pants reaching for the handle. Haha. I wish it had been my pants. I wish my orange underwear with polka dots had been exposed to all and sundry. I wish. No, it wasn't material ripping or the step giving way. It was the muscle in my calf that said, "Oh, I don't think so, sistah."
Then the pain set in. The two clerks probably think I'm going to sue them. Unfortunately I can't sue them for me being impatient with twats.
Next blog: the ER - home of weirdness even before I got there.