We found what we needed to buy, almost.
They just didn't have a complete set.
Drove halfway across town to another Mervyn's and found the complete deal.
So all we have to do is pay and go, right?
Right?
Yeah, not so easy.
Seemed like every cashier on both floors went for a smoke (beer?) break at the same time--one register was carrying the load of the whole store as we went around and around and up and down hunting for someone to take our money.
How do you stay in business if every single member of your staff is allowed to vanish for ten minutes simultaneously?
The place could have been robbed silly--screw the cameras, they still have to ID and catch you.
Anyway, the first Merv to appear was in Shoes, so we scooted over and were 2nd in line behind The BootChucker, shown here.
(Click to enlarge) This lady wasn't happy about all the waiting, and we were her new best friends by virtue of proximity. You know how that goes.
Orders were given, complaints were made, apologies were un-accepted...
And then the young punk behind the register made the mistake of asking her to move over to the next register 3 feet away...
That's when the bootchucker started chuckin' boots.
"Huffhuffcomplain...canyoubelievethisshit...
Ijustwanttobuysomedamnbootsformyniece..." all of this directed towards both the coward behind the register AND us as she throws the boots onto the counter, loses control of the box and pitches it at the cashier "Idon'tneednofuckingbox" and by now she's scuffed the crap out of the boots but wants to save face...
That's when the crazy old bitch turned and winked at me.
Not enough soap in the house to fix that.
Merry Christmas, Y'all!
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