My wife got some shoes the other night to hopefully relieve the fun side effect of pregnancy that is swollen feet (which goes along with swollen hands, the urge to pee every six minutes, back pain, etc. – there are a few, in case you’ve never heard of pregnancy). They were the wrong size, but have no fear, there was another store and she asked me to swap them out. What could go wrong?
I got to the store on my lunch break, where every minute of my free time is magnified to a level of importance rivaled only by an emergency bathroom break when you’re on the highway. I walked in, found the shoes in under a minute, and technically could have just walked out and left the old ones, but I’d rather not be charged with shoplifting this week. I went up to the counter and an old man, maybe at one point 5′ 3″, but now the size of a lollipop kid, with his pants pulled up so high, I’m not sure if he was wearing a shirt, stood in my path. “WHAT’S THE TAX ON THESE $90 SHOES?” The clerk looked powerless against the juggernaut that was independent thought and math skills. Both stared for about 10 seconds, then he asked again. I chimed in, “About $7, give or take.” “I NEED TO KNOW EXACTLY!” After another two minutes, in which my blood pressure rose to danger level, a manager was able to ring the shoes up. It was $6.76. In other words, about $7.
This caused nipple pants to yell more about the cost and announce his intentions to purchase other shoes. Did you think it was 1834 and the tax rate was sixpence? How about if you’re worried about $6 and some change in tax, YOU BUY CHEAPER SHOES. I took a deep breath and was promptly told that only a manager could swap my shoes out, even though they were already paid for, the price was the same and I had the receipt. Another several minutes passed and I was able to leave, shoes in hand. Luckily for all involved, I was out of lunch time, they had wasted enough time of mine so that I was unable to procure the materials needed to torch the store. There’s always tomorrow! Actually, someone would hold me up in line there too. Maybe I’ll just drink.