I started a scarf for myself Thursday night and as I reached the halfway mark on Sunday it became clear that I wasn't going to have enough wool to complete the pattern so off I went to Michaels Monday evening to buy some supplies. Karl waited in the car.
I went in and asked for some help finding the wool I needed. It had moved since I was last there. The lady who helped me was awesome, and a couple years ago she actually gave me coupons to get a smoking good deal on our Christmas tree. As in... ridiculously awesome good deal. I should find out her name so I can name my first child after her or something.
When I went up to the till there were two open. One of them had about four people in line and the other was empty. I went up to the woman and asked if she was open, expecting a no. She said yes, sounded busy and frazzled, and I was surprised she didn't just send me to the other till. It looked like she was trying to make sense of a receipt.
I pulled up my 40% off coupon on my phone, she scanned it, and I looked at the screen. It said the wool was $4.99 so, surprised, I asked her how much it was originally, thinking that I didn't remember it being almost $10 a ball. She told me it was $4.99. I asked again if that was the original price and she said, again, that it was $4.99.
I paid with my debit card, sure that my 40% off coupon hadn't worked, and looked at my receipt. I didn't see my coupon on it. I asked her where it said how much money I saved. She informed me that I didn't save any money because my wool was on sale so my coupon wouldn't work. I told her the reason I kept asking before about the original price was because I also had the 25% off sale coupon, in case my wool was on sale. She stared at me, in a what do you want me to do about it? way. I told her I would have used to the 25% off coupon if I'd known the wool was on sale, but didn't see a sign at the wool that said it was and that's what I had been asking.
"You gave me the wrong coupon."
"But I had the other one, you just didn't answer my question."
She rolled her eyes at me and sighed like a fourteen year old. "So you want me to give you a refund?"
"Well that's why I was asking..."
"I can't give you a refund. You'll have to go to the other till." She nodded towards the other till that had 8 people in line.
There were four people in line behind me. "You know what? It's fine. I'll just go."
I stomped out to the car, got in, used some less than loving language, and started crying. Karl asked me if I wanted to go back in and complain but I told him it wasn't worth it. I really wanted to go back and throw a fit, but for $1.25 and my pride it wasn't worth it. I'm better than that. Instead I tweeted my rage. And cried a little bit more.
Dear Michaels employee, I'm sorry for asking you a question, that you rolled your eyes, ripped me off, and that I didn't complain. You suck.
— Anna Morton (@annaleemorton) November 13, 2012
Last night as I was sitting in front of The Walking Dead, knitting my sorrows away, I decided that I didn't really need that extra ball of wool. I'd just make the pattern an inch shorter and no one would be the wiser. When I go back to return that wool, which I will, I'm going to make a point of telling the person doing the return how rude the woman was that sold it to me. All with be a little bit righter in the world.
Seriously, who rolls their eyes? It's not like your company doesn't print coupons for people to use them. It's not like that $1.25 comes directly out of your paycheque. It's not like you get paid by commission or how many people come through your till.
It's not like $1.25 is going to break the bank. With us consistently overspending on groceries right now, though, it feels like it might. There is just something so incomprehensibly frustrating about a grown, 40-something year old woman rolling her eyes at you.
We've all been there, but I really just wanted to headbutt her. You know, between the tears.