Christmas in July- Pearl Jam style.

K and I stopped by work today to pick up my paycheck.  We were talking to the gallery director and the floor manager when my co-worker, Matt, came by.  "Hold on!  Don't leave!"  He went running.  He came back and handed me a wrapped package.  

Should I open it now?  Is that okay?

This is what was inside.  An insane stack o' PJ boots.  

At first, I thought that they were singles.  "Did you get a huge stack of singles in?"  (He also works at an indie record store in town.)  "They are concerts!"  "Oh, my gosh!  They are!"  Because it could be slightly Sheldon-like, I asked if I could hug him.  It was an incredibly thoughtful gift.  He used to work at Border's. He said that he bought them when they were going out.  He listened to them.  He enjoyed them.  He said that he won't listen to them probably again, but knew that I was looking forward to the fall concert.  How sweet was that?  

As I was loading the PJ bootlegs into iTunes, lookie loo what came up on 10c Radio as I was loading Jones Beach?  

Such an incredibly thoughtful thing to do!  :)

The latest in customer rudeness.

"Helloooooooo!"  The woman was calling from 2 rooms away.  Now, I admit that I'm not a beck and call girl.  I didn't realize she was calling for me.  She and her friend had been very lively with talk the whole way through.  "I'm sorry ma'am, I thought you were talking to your friend."

Lesson 1:  Don't call to the store employees from rooms away out of laziness.  I've had people with small children, disabilities and other sorts of needs.  I'm not saying not to call always.  There are times that there is a need.  Laziness is not a need or a reason.

I had another woman.  She was asserting her made-of-moneyness to me.  It's fine.  I'm an artist and my husband is a park naturalist.  We are rich not by any means.  I suppose that we could be if we really wanted to be, but we agreed that we would only work jobs that we loved.  My husband watched his father stressed out with his job for years.  Not that we're Sheldon and Amy, but in the unwritten marriage contract, this was a piece.  Be happy in your job and if you aren't, fix it until you are.  We are, but we don't get paid a ton.  Fine with us.

"I want you to wrap this item and :motioning with her hands: I want you to . . . "

"Ma'am, I promise, I've got it."

She pays, compliments my wrapping and then says, "Okay, now I have a test for you."

:insert weird look:

"Now YOU have to show me exactly where YOU put that price tag."

:insert smirk and bobbling head:

I picked up the receipt, flipped the page and as I held it up to show her all of the price tags from all of her items I said, "Ma'am, I've been here for 13 years and do a good job."

"Oh!  You did get it!"

"Um, yes. We always take the price tags off.  I understand that sometimes these are the things that can keep people awake and I'd rather have you ask."

"Oh, it would!"

"We take all price tags off so that the office staff can double check our handwriting."

"Oh!"

She and her friend had been quite a treat, so this was the cherry on top.  I love customer tests!  :insert cranky and angry stare:  (Though I admit that no customer was ever snarky enough to term it a "test.") Really?  Could you just politely ask me, just like everyone else, if I got the tag or where it was?  I don't care.  That's fine. Don't treat me like I'm stupid, because I'm not.  Just because I'm standing behind a counter doesn't mean that I'm not good at what I do, have a job that is beneath me or have an education not past the third grade.  I can read, write and while my math skills aren't super, I have an adding machine for that.  I have a degree from a state college and spent 7 years getting it.  I worked 2-3 jobs and any one time while going to college so that I could obtain an education and not be up to my eyeballs in complete unmanageable debt.  I work this job because I, by and large, love this job, love the people that I work for and have flexibility that isn't common anywhere else.  I can be me and not get fired for it.  I can be creative and not necessarily follow the prescribed formula and that is okay.  I'm not asking to be treated as a prized jewel.

Lesson 2:  Just treat me as a human or at least better than you might treat your dog.

Our daughter took us out on a date.

We usually try to walk in the evenings.  K decided that she had a hankerin' for something different.

"We can go play miniature golf & get ice cream."

Hubs and I looked at each other and decided why not.  K had won 2 free games and 2 free cones from the fall Walk A Thon fundraiser that we did at the school.  The weather that was threatening all day had blown over, so we could cruise on out and go.

We opted for ice cream first, but knew that we couldn't take the cones on the course.  The coupons were for free small ice cream cones.  We usually get the kid cones.  The small cones are borderline large in any other realm.  It is also homemade ice cream.  K got blue moon with a smiley face and I had chocolate chip.  "Are you going to eat all of that," asks my otherwise lactose intolerant husband.  "Yes, but if you'd like a bite, you may."

He took a bite.

Since I scored the cone, Hubs got to play the game.  I kept score.  There are two courses side by side. K wanted to play the other, but a slower-than-cold-tar family decided on course 1, so we opted for course 2.  (When we finished, they weren't even 1/2 way through their course.)  Though Hubs won, K spanked him on a few holes.

We took a drive down through the park.  We watched the sunset and looked for wildlife.  (We saw a deer that Hubs decided to back up for all of us to see.  I told him that doesn't scream, "We're from the city," at all.)  Hubs took us for a romantic stop by the local big box for some family supplies.  We arrived home tired and all ready for bed.

It was a nice night.  The humidity dropped, it wasn't too hot and it hadn't gotten too buggy yet.  Our girl shared her prize with us and she didn't have to.  It was a fun time to be had by all.  :)