Did I sleep through Black Friday? Oh, I wish. I'd like to say I only paid the dollar it cost to park at Marymoor so I could walk Teddy, but then I remembered that I'd bought some Black Friday specials at Nick's karate joint, a T-shirt, a uniform, nunchucks so that Nick, who is practicing double-nunchuks, can have a balanced pair.
It was during this transaction that I realized that the people who work there do not like me. I hate when that happens. Sometimes I wonder if they like Nick. Usually, he has a sensei who loves him, but lately, I don't see it. His current instructor is impatient with him. I tell you that if Nick didn't like it there, I wouldn't spend any more money at the place. This afternoon, I imagined calling them on it.
Have you ever done that? Wouldn't life be so much easier if we told people what we thought? I'm not talking about those internal comments to the poor woman at Costco who really shouldn't be wearing those shiny stretchy pants that are three sizes too small. I'm talking about the things that would help us waste so much less of our time and money in the long run.
"You really should treat your customers as though you like them."
"What? Who me? Sure, I like you," he would say as he stares at his computer.
"Look at people when you're completing a transaction with them. I see you flirting with the tiny blonde women who bring their toddlers into the dojo. You should give us old ugly women at least the respect we deserve because we've been bringing our money into your business for the past seven years."
That might make his stomach burn in embarrassment for twenty minutes or so, but he might make more of an effort after that. Really, that's all I'm asking, an effort at being civil.
"And stop that system that sends me four emails a day. I'm sick of it."
Hey, I should tell him my email changed. I could. That would be a nice solution to the problem of all those emails that I never read. Really, who wants to get four junk emails each day?
So, am I still thankful for the four days off from civilization? I would be if I hadn't had to go to Costco today and into the office of the ungrateful sensei yesterday. I think I'll be okay in a little while. I'm going to sit and stitch the binding on a quilt while dinner simmers. Maybe Nick and Mike will pick a decent movie for us to watch. Maybe my leg, where the enthusiastic boxer at the park banged into it two days ago, will stop aching once I prop it up. Maybe the world will shrink down to us three, comfortable in our company, happy to be at home together for another day. Maybe the tea will warm my fingers and I'll put my pajamas on early. Sounds like something to be grateful for, doesn't it?
Thank you for listening, jb
It was during this transaction that I realized that the people who work there do not like me. I hate when that happens. Sometimes I wonder if they like Nick. Usually, he has a sensei who loves him, but lately, I don't see it. His current instructor is impatient with him. I tell you that if Nick didn't like it there, I wouldn't spend any more money at the place. This afternoon, I imagined calling them on it.
Have you ever done that? Wouldn't life be so much easier if we told people what we thought? I'm not talking about those internal comments to the poor woman at Costco who really shouldn't be wearing those shiny stretchy pants that are three sizes too small. I'm talking about the things that would help us waste so much less of our time and money in the long run.
"You really should treat your customers as though you like them."
"What? Who me? Sure, I like you," he would say as he stares at his computer.
"Look at people when you're completing a transaction with them. I see you flirting with the tiny blonde women who bring their toddlers into the dojo. You should give us old ugly women at least the respect we deserve because we've been bringing our money into your business for the past seven years."
That might make his stomach burn in embarrassment for twenty minutes or so, but he might make more of an effort after that. Really, that's all I'm asking, an effort at being civil.
"And stop that system that sends me four emails a day. I'm sick of it."
Hey, I should tell him my email changed. I could. That would be a nice solution to the problem of all those emails that I never read. Really, who wants to get four junk emails each day?
So, am I still thankful for the four days off from civilization? I would be if I hadn't had to go to Costco today and into the office of the ungrateful sensei yesterday. I think I'll be okay in a little while. I'm going to sit and stitch the binding on a quilt while dinner simmers. Maybe Nick and Mike will pick a decent movie for us to watch. Maybe my leg, where the enthusiastic boxer at the park banged into it two days ago, will stop aching once I prop it up. Maybe the world will shrink down to us three, comfortable in our company, happy to be at home together for another day. Maybe the tea will warm my fingers and I'll put my pajamas on early. Sounds like something to be grateful for, doesn't it?
Thank you for listening, jb
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