Monday, April 26, 2010

The Curmudgeon learns a lesson or By now, I should know better

So I'm in my boutique make-up store, having made a couple of purchases which I don't need immediately, but I can see the bottom of the bottle, so to speak. Therefore, it's time to buy while I'm there since said boutique is in Dallas and I am not.

The clerk is new and anxious to please and we've chatted amicably. The bill comes to just under $20 since I've been able to cash out my frequent shopper card for $10 off. I hand her a fifty, and as I'm doing so, a little voice is whispering in my ear: "Ask if she can make change for that." Despite being near closing time, most people pull out a card and she might not have change for that, but I don't ask, and thereby hangs the lesson.

She doesn't look at the bill. She plops it atop the twenties and counts out my coinage as she shuts the register drawer.

"I gave you a fifty."

She is flummoxed and looks at her supervisor (store manager?) to open the register. The store manager shoots us both daggers with her eyes. All of a sudden I'm the customer out to bilk the store for $30 and her new clerk is the annoying victim. But she has to open the register and she does so with much punching and distrust.

Oh, my. Look atop the twenties. There's a fifty. Hmmm... I don't say anything. The manager grabs the bill, puts it where it should have been put in the first place, the secret fifty/hundred slot, and smiles weakly as I get my $30.

Next time I'm asking if they have change for that.

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