Today during second period, Sam leaned over to me and said, "Teacher. Look what's on the side of your desk."
And so, like any normal person would when someone says "look," I looked.
And do you know what it was?
A bunch of boogers.
Three if you want to be exact.
Dried up, crusty boogers.
On the side of my desk.
These high schoolers are sick. Sick, I tell you. I was in too much of a shock today to do much about it, but rest assured, I intend to drill each one of my classes tomorrow and find the culprit. Whoever is picking his nasty nose and wiping it on my school furniture certainly must pay!
Don't you agree?
But that, my dears, is beside the point. This post was never intended to be about boogers. Please, this is a sophisticated blog, not some trashy high school blog. Show it some credit, will you?!
This post, actually, if you want to know, is supposed to be about the lies that Target tells.
Yep, you read right, my friends, the lies of our favorite supermarket-turned-department-store, Target.
As of three hours ago, I am convinced Target exists to make my life miserable.
This afternoon I had to make a few returns at good old Tar-jey. (That's how rich people say it. I'm rich, if you didn't know. You seen what high school teachers are making now days?) The return was necessary because of a
bad shopping habit I picked up from my mom. This is also because I legitimately enjoy making returns due to the fact that I feel like I am making money by shopping and then returning. I'm well aware that it doesn't work like that, but just let me enjoy the thought, will you?
After I made a successful return to Target, I decided that it couldn't hurt to look around a bit. You know, for more stuff to return later. I did some perusing, and within no time at all I had in my arms four dresses, a pair of shorts, three swimsuits, and two shirts. I paraded on back to the fitting room and politely requested a room- to which the lady attendant with very skinny arms told me that I could only take six items in.
Now. A little background. This isn't the first time a lady attendant at Target has told me to limit my items. Last time I was a Target another chick had very sternly asked me how many items I held in my arms. I replied "about five or six." She then counted my items and discovered I actually had seven items. She then refused to allow me to take them all back. Not only was I humiliated by her counting each individual piece of clothing to catch me in a lie I didn't know I was telling, I was annoyed and frustrated that I couldn't take the extra piece of clothing in. I begged. I bargained. I bullied. The girl didn't relent. And so, alas, I went back to the dressing room with only six items in hand. I never even tried on the seventh item, just to stick it to Target.
BACK TO TODAY (and try to stay on topic, will you?) "You can only take in six items and will have to come back for the rest," Skinny told me.
"Can I just take all of them back?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you can't."
"Can I just hang the extra items outside my door?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not allowed."
"So you're telling me that I have to get fully dressed again, bring you the items I don't want, and then pick up my new items?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't that seem like a waste of time?"
"It's the rule, ma'am."
"Can I call you to bring me my other items after I have finished the first round of clothes so I don't have to get dressed and come back out here?"
"I can't guarantee I'll be here."
"Then can you just let me take them all back? I"m trying on swimsuits here."
"No ma'am. It's the rule."
Growing increasingly exasperated at the situation, but still foolishly convinced I could reason with Skinny, I tried again. "I understand that you didn't make the rules and you just work here, but I guess I am frustrated because it seems so pointless. Do you know the reasoning behind why I can't take more than six items back?"
A slight pause while she considered, and then Skinny replied, "We do it so that we can regulate and keep track of how many items are back there."
"So it is a shoplifting prevention?"
"What?"
"It's so people don't steal?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Now. I don't know about you. But if I were a thief, (and I am not, I repeat, I am not a thief) I would never draw so much attention to myself by taking something back to the dressing room and telling a Target worker that I had that piece of clothing, and
then trying to steal it. I would simply slip my item of thieving choice slyly into my purse and I'd get the heck out of the store. What criminal actually needs a dressing room to accomplish their mischievous shenanigans?
I was onto Skinny. Her reasoning was not sound. No. Not at all. She had no idea why the rule exists, but was trying to enforce it with absolute fidelity regardless. She wanted to trick me into believing me the purposeless rule did indeed have a purpose, I was sure of it. But I took the higher road, said nothing, and instead snatched up my first round of clothing up and headed into the dressing room. With sass. Because you've got to show Skinny some sass sometimes. (Extra credit for alliteration, thank you very much!)
Eight minutes later I had tried on the six pieces of clothing, redressed myself, and was now emerging from the dressing room with my first round of clothes in order to acquire round two of clothes. (Does this sound like a circus to anyone else besides me?!?!) Skinny did not look up from the garment she was hanging up. Instead she mumbled, "Just throw them in that basket" and continued on, not paying a lick of attention to what I was doing. I chucked them, watching them disappear into a shopping cart filled to the brim with pieces of unwanted clothing.
I stared at Skinny.
She did not stare back.
In fact, she ignored me.
No response whatsoever.
No check to see that I had brought out all six items. No request for my fluorescent pink 6 door hangar she hadso generously given to me. No wondering if I brought everything out of the room. Nothing.
Point. Proven. People.
I
knew the whole shoplifting thing was a bluff! Skinny couldn't care less if I stole three bikinis and a snickers bar. All she cared about was that I only take six items back. The shoplifting thing was a lie- a completely useless rule that Target made up without a reason and that Skinny insisted be followed, despite having nothing to back it up.
IT'S TIME TO TAKE A STAND! As part of my ever-faithful
resistance to the man, I firmly believe that rules like this should not exist and when they do exist we all have a responsibility to break them until they do not exist anymore.
You still with me?
Maybe the rule does have a purpose. Maybe there is a sound reason and Skinny didn't know it so she just made something up to pacify the pissy customer
(sorry, mama, I know you hate that word). I've never worked in retail, so I'm no expert, (and if you have worked in retail, please, enlighten me!) but I do know that if you are going to enforce a rule you gosh darn better know the reason behind it!
And do you know what the craziest thing about all this is? This post started out with boogers. My, how far we have come.