You can't HANDLE the truth
What a great line!! Jack should have been paid extra for that one.
So tonight is Thursday night. The night of 'late night' shopping. The night where stores in Sydney are open to 8 pm. (I can hear the gasps!) Yes, this wildly advanced city has late night shopping!! ONE night a week! What a revolutionary idea....if you're living in the 50s!!!!
It's amazing how much you can take for granted. When I first moved here, it never even occurred to me that a mall would close at 6 pm. (And the truth is, the stores actually close at 5:45 pm so the employees can leave by 6. Never, NEVER would happen at Yorkdale or Fairview, let me tell you. That would cause an absolute riot! and get the stores fined by the mall administration)
But never mind. I was out. And since there's only one night of late night shopping, of course it was completely chockers... Tried to throw away some cash - major cash in fact when I tried to buy a suit, but when the sales lady ignored me, I decided I didn't want to give them my money.... Not that I'm petulant or anything.
But I finally did manage to open the wallet. Mind you, it was in the book store and not clothing - which is what I actually do need. But I digress......
So, I've got my handful of books and I'm waiting in the queue (aka 'the line' for my fellow Canadians) and I'm waiting. And I'm waiting. See....they only have one cashier. But as luck would have it when I'm next in line, a new cashier shows up. He rings up my books. Looks at them. Scans them again. Plays with the cash register keypad. Looks at them again.
I start tapping my foot. And it's really not hard to mistake what I'm doing considering I'm wearing heels (still in my suit) and tapping those suckers against a tiled floor is no quiet event
Finally, the cashier guy spews out some number. From the way things have progressed, I'm beginning to believe it's just a random number but I handed over my credit card anyway. As he's processing things (and trust me, this is not going quickly) I look at the books again to see how much they cost (I never checked originally - oops!) and add them up in my head to see if he's charged me the right amount.
Seeing as he's watching me (instead of doing anything constructive, like ringing through my credit card) he notices me checking up on him and asks "Did you want to ask me something?"
Surprised at his question, I quickly answer no. But in my head a different conversation is taking place. One where I answer "Yes, I do have a question. CAN YOU HURRY THE FUCK UP?"
I really don't think he could've handled the truth. But damn it, would have been fun to watch him try!
So tonight is Thursday night. The night of 'late night' shopping. The night where stores in Sydney are open to 8 pm. (I can hear the gasps!) Yes, this wildly advanced city has late night shopping!! ONE night a week! What a revolutionary idea....if you're living in the 50s!!!!
It's amazing how much you can take for granted. When I first moved here, it never even occurred to me that a mall would close at 6 pm. (And the truth is, the stores actually close at 5:45 pm so the employees can leave by 6. Never, NEVER would happen at Yorkdale or Fairview, let me tell you. That would cause an absolute riot! and get the stores fined by the mall administration)
But never mind. I was out. And since there's only one night of late night shopping, of course it was completely chockers... Tried to throw away some cash - major cash in fact when I tried to buy a suit, but when the sales lady ignored me, I decided I didn't want to give them my money.... Not that I'm petulant or anything.
But I finally did manage to open the wallet. Mind you, it was in the book store and not clothing - which is what I actually do need. But I digress......
So, I've got my handful of books and I'm waiting in the queue (aka 'the line' for my fellow Canadians) and I'm waiting. And I'm waiting. See....they only have one cashier. But as luck would have it when I'm next in line, a new cashier shows up. He rings up my books. Looks at them. Scans them again. Plays with the cash register keypad. Looks at them again.
I start tapping my foot. And it's really not hard to mistake what I'm doing considering I'm wearing heels (still in my suit) and tapping those suckers against a tiled floor is no quiet event
Finally, the cashier guy spews out some number. From the way things have progressed, I'm beginning to believe it's just a random number but I handed over my credit card anyway. As he's processing things (and trust me, this is not going quickly) I look at the books again to see how much they cost (I never checked originally - oops!) and add them up in my head to see if he's charged me the right amount.
Seeing as he's watching me (instead of doing anything constructive, like ringing through my credit card) he notices me checking up on him and asks "Did you want to ask me something?"
Surprised at his question, I quickly answer no. But in my head a different conversation is taking place. One where I answer "Yes, I do have a question. CAN YOU HURRY THE FUCK UP?"
I really don't think he could've handled the truth. But damn it, would have been fun to watch him try!
posted by lala at
9:21 PM
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