DEBRIS.COMgood for a laugh, or possibly an aneurysm

I needed to get a fresh nylon cord for my QLink. There’s a bead store downtown that although on previous visits seemed awash in negative energy — in fact my departing thought my first time there was “I’m never coming back in here!” — would certainly have a supply of suitable cord.

Sure enough, the store had a spool of precisely the material I wanted.

“How much is this?” I asked, motioning at the specific spool.

“It’s a dollar per yard,” replied the clerk.

“I don’t need a yard,” I said. “I just need enough to hang this thing around my neck.” I was thinking that about 24 inches would do fine.

“We usually sell it by the yard,” said the clerk in a tone suggesting the customer is never right.

So, chastised, I cut off one yard of material, slightly annoyed that before the end of the day one-third of it would be sitting in a trash can. I fished a dollar bill out of my wallet and laid it on the counter. The clerk poked at her register and said, “That will be $1.08.”

And I thought, I didn’t need a whole yard. I didn’t want a whole yard. I very nearly cut off twelve inches’ worth of cord and asked her to refund me 33¢, rather than break a dollar to pay the tax.

But no, I’m far too kind and patient with people in general, especially retail salespeople, especially retail salespeople already burdened with a lack of common sense, not to mention business sense, not to mention fashion sense, not to mention a dead-end job in a bead store. I noticed a little dish of coins on the counter and began reaching for it. I sensed an immediate defensiveness, an aura of palpable tension encasing the dish of coins like a force-field. I paused.

“Can I dip into your penny jar for the 8¢ tax?”

“No, that’s our change.”

Well, of course it is. That’s how penny jars work.

She made me break a second dollar, though. I left with too much nylon cord and 92¢ change in my pocket. My departing thought? “I’m never coming back in here!”