Sometimes, I manage to be in the right place at the right time. Like when buying a winning scratcher ticket. Other times, I seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like Saturday, shortly after noon.
I'd stopped by The Gas Station Chicken Store for my daily 44 oz Diet Coke. I was about an hour behind my previously planned schedule, due to an unfruitful trip to the closed bank. I thought my favorite parking space was available, but as I watched, a maroon sedan pulled from the gas pumps. I assumed he was leaving the lot, and I held T-Hoe ready to pull into my rightful parking space. But no. That guy sat there crossways in his maroon sedan, idling, blocking THREE WHOLE PARKING SPACES! So I went over to park by the moat that separates the lot from Farmer H's pharmacy.
When I went inside, people were milling about all willy-nilly. Like they didn't understand line-waiting protocol in The Gas Station Chicken Store. I had to maneuver my way down the far left aisle to take the long way around the back to get to the soda fountain. Once I was magically elixired, I got in line. I knew several people had been ahead of me. At this time, there was one lady at the register paying for gas and cigarettes, and another lady off to the side. I patiently waited my turn, standing in front of the shelf full of whiskey topped by two round spinny racks of sunglasses. Sometimes I while away my wait by checking out how many brands of whiskey, or thinking about which sunglasses I would pick if I needed sunglasses.
The clerk was finally getting caught up. She's the next-to-newest one, the older blond lady, personable enough, but we don't really have a connection. Another regular cashier was working the chicken counter. She's been there off and on for years. I think of her as Happy, because she is generally happy, even when acting cantankerous with some of the regulars. She was in the back room, probably frying chicken, when she called out to Blondie.
"Did that lady buy anything? That tall lady with dark hair? She was standing by that rack, and when she left, she was fiddling with her purse. She had a big purse."
Blondie was flustered after having a rush of customers. Didn't remember. She asked her current customer if she noticed the lady buying anything.
"No. She didn't. She was in here with another lady, and they left."
Happy had it covered. "That's okay. I got her license plate number."
Sweet Gummi Mary! There I was, standing right by the sunglasses rack,
looking at them, with my dark hair and tall stature. Good thing I wasn't
carrying a purse!
That's why Happy has worked there for so many years. She has the same attitude as the Woman Owner. If anything is missing, the perpetrator won't get away with it.
Good to know that Happy is keeping track even when she is in the back cooking her chooks. And I think she would recognise you as a regular customer not a sunglasses snatcher.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteYes, I did not feel like Happy would accuse ME of sunglasses theft! I'm just a little jumpy after ordering five new cell phones, and trying to deposit a check in my own account!