I seriously need to write down all the ironic things that happen to me in daily life, because one day, it could make for a very humorous memoir.
Sunday, I had some time to kill before going to a weekly Bible Study I attend, so I did what any girl who has a new shopping center open up in her hometown; I went to Target. If it wasn’t enough to do all the people watching and see people react to a Target in Martinsburg, I got to overhear snippets of conversations, like “oh look, an in store trash can.”
While I was in a line that seemed to be taking a lot longer than usual, I noticed that the woman in front of me was getting a new Target card, but the associate didn’t now how to do it (in his defense, the store opened less than a week ago), so he asked the associate next to him, who told him simply to take this packet and scan this and give the packet to the customer.
Since I just got my own Target card a few months ago, I knew he needed to scan the customer’s drivers license to get the essential information, so I politely told him so. At the same time, I over heard the people in line behind me. A grandmother and her grandson, who I’m guessing was about 10 years-old.
“Grandma, this is my first CD ever!” said the blond haired boy. I looked at the grandma and chuckled and she smiled. The album was Mat Kearney, an artist I’m familiar with and I told the boy it was a good pick and I liked him as well.
“Oh are you expecting?!” said the grandma. I looked at her blankly and said no and she said she thought I said I liked children or something to that affect. Then she asked me if I was still in school. I told her what newspaper I work for (and I really need to just tell people I’m a writer) and she proceeded to tell me why she boycotted the paper for 6 months because of what she felt was advertising discrepancies. As I was trying to check out and make my way to get coffee, I apologized for any wrong doing she felt she was given and thanked her for coming back.
Next up was Starbucks. I had been craving a caramel macchiato and after placing my order in a very crowded, popular and busy shop, I grabbed a seat and my phone and waited. Then I heard the barista call my name.
(Just a rabbit trail … to those who are all anti-Starbucks, I hear you loud and clear. I prefer Lost Dog any day, but sometimes, it’s a matter of convenience and consistency, and that’s how I end up at Starbucks.)
“We’re out of regular espresso,” she told me. Again, I stared blankly, thinking this had to be a sick joke. It’s Starbucks. She tells me she can make it with de-caf – yeah, whatever, but if she finds regular, she’ll remake it, or she could reimburse me. I agree to the de-caf grande caramel macchiato (thank you, Tom Hanks and You’ve Got Mail) and look around hoping that someone will sympathize with me and share a laugh but there was no one. I guess Martinsburg was trying to put off the “high brow” appearance since they have a Starbucks now.
The whole evening was random and completely ironic. I can’t help but wonder if similar experience will happen in future visits, but I guess that’s what keeps life interesting.
