"You can't always get what you want" --The Rolling Stones

Sunday, I go to get my hair re-evaluated and possibly cut at a recommended salon where two stylists cluck sympathetically at me and say things like "Oh, my!" and "Where did you have it done?" and "You mean it's been a month already?! You poor thing."

But before all that, I find myself at the door of the salon half an hour early* so I decide to get myself an iced tea next door.**

Clerk #1 is standing behind the cash register. Clerk #2 is three feet away. Clerk #1 is just standing and staring. Not at me. Perhaps she is dreaming of a glittery vampire.

Me, after waiting a minute: Good morning.

Clerk #1, in a flat, disgusted tone, like I am one of those "Save the Children" kids and I have way too many flies landing on me***: Hi.

Me, smiling: How are you?

Clerk #1, in same disgusted tone with a new hint of irritation, as if to say "How dare you speak to me with your marmot hair": I'm fine. Can I help you?

Me, looking back at board of options: I'd like a peach iced tea, please.

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2, with the same Ben Stein delivery: Peach iced tea.

Clerk #2, equally enthusiastically: Small or large?

Me: Small is fine.

A minute passes.

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2: Do we have any more peach?

Clerk #2: No.

Clerk #1 to me, as if I wasn't standing a foot away this whole time: We don't have any more peach.

Me, obligingly: Oh.

Clerk #1, sighing: We have raspberry.

Me: Um, no. How about just regular iced tea...

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2: Regular iced tea.

Clerk #1 to me: Small or large?

Me, thinking I only wanted a small of the preferred kind and now that I have to accept a lesser tea you think I'm going to want more?: Small is fine.

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2: Small.

Clerk #1 rings up the sale. Clerk #2 gives me my tea.

I scout around for the straw dispenser and find it farther back along the narrow aisle that is the customers' side of the counter. I get my straw. Someone else gets their share of joy from Thing 1 and Thing 2 and as I am coming to pass this customer, she drops a bagel, which causes her to simultaneously bend down and back up into me thrusting her buttal region in my general direction. This causes me to do a twisty side step, inadvertently hip-checking the basket of baguettes which topple over onto the floor.

Me, horrified and trying to reach for the basket which is now blocked behind the other customer's expansive buttal region: I'm so sorry!

Clerk #1 and Clerk #2 ignore us, continuing to stare into space. The other customer lifts the basket of baguettes off the floor and rights it. Mmmm, floor bread.

Moral: Never go anywhere with marmot hair.




* Stupid Metro never delays when you need it to.

** True confession: I may have said "ice tea" instead of "iced tea" until very recently. At least I didn't say pacific for specific. I know people that do that! I do! OMG! Right?!

***More than three is gauche.