It was a bright, sunshiney day and that is exactly how my attitude began when I started my shopping spree. As the hours passed however, scrambling to gather ideas and supplies to decorate for a wedding shower at the last minute changed my mood from excited and creative to panic and frustration. My last stop before heading home to begin hours of assembly was the fabric store. To my pleasant surprise, there were huge sales on most of the fabric, so I quickly grabbed my selection and headed to the cutting counter. While waiting for my turn I glanced around, grateful that there were only a handful of customers in the store, so my wait to check out would be quick. As my mind started to priortize the duties that lay ahead of me, I realized that there are two ladies behind the cutting counter, Curly and Brilliant, and one customer ahead of me. Of course the customer needed numerous yards of upholstry fabric, so I knew my wait would be a little bit longer, but surely the other lady behind the counter would help me soon. Apparently her job description could fit on a post-it note and included rambling about how curly her hair was and winding yarn around a spool. She obviously didn't realize that I didn't have time to idle at the cutting counter. Finally the customer and Curly left me with the employee who had been trained ... because cutting fabric is not just something anyone can do ... Curly obviously hadn't taken the week long training and was why she couldn't help me.
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I had already completed the calculations in my head, anticipating the question ... "how many yards?" Nope, Brilliant asks me "what number are you?" Seriously, by this time I was about finished with the stupidness. I look around to make sure I had not cut in front of a line ... just me. I'm sure my eyes were pouring with sarcasm as I reached to grab a number. "Number 78" I say cheerfully (I don't think she picked on the severe sarcasm at all). She glanced up to the ceiling at the Now Serving box where 77 was illuminated in red. She reached over to the phone and announced over the intercom, "now serving, number 77." By this time I am looking for hidden cameras. She smiled at me as she waited for a response from one of the six customers in the entire store. We wait. She then told me, "I guess I forgot to change the number over" and clicks to number 78. I smiled as politely as I could, confused a little when she said, "excuse me" while reaching for the phone again.
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Brilliant turns on the intercom and says "now serving number 78."
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I scanned the store again waiting for the camera crews to jump out at me. I'm telling you, I was the only person even close to the cutting counter. She flashed her "I'm hear to serve you smile" and to follow along with the charade I say, "that's me."
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"How many yards to you need?"