Minor Little Annoyances

It seems once in a while there comes a day when every little thing you try to do comes attached with some kind of annoyance. Today it happened to be my day.

It started off at the hairdresser. I was unfortunate to have an appointment at the same time as the loudest and most talkative lady in the county. She never stopped. I tried rolling my eyes a few times in an attempt to signal my hairdresser about my disgruntedness. She never picked up on it. So now I know all about the loudmouth's planned trip to NY to visit her son, all the way down to what is in the refrigerator, or perhaps I should say what is not in the refrigerator. I know they live in the suburbs and "grandma" likes to stay and play with the kids rather than tour the big city. She stays away from certain delis, doesn't take cabs or any other method of public transportation, (how did she get there anyway?) and takes enough underwear for the entire trip so she doesn't have to do any laundry. Too much information.

It didn't get much better when I visited the local fabric crafts store. Why do clerks always have to ask what you are making? If they can't figure out why I have 3 yards of 1" elasticized sequin hat band, 2 red fabric pens, a large jar of red glitter, a tube of red glitter glue, 3 bags of red sequins, a jar of true red fabric paint, three different sized fabric paint brushes and one little white baseball hat, what business is it of theirs?

By this time it was way past lunch time but I figured I could squeeze in one quick trip into the mega bookstore before I crashed into sugarless oblivion. I know there is a ton of info on the internet about cruises to Alaska but sometimes I just have to have my hands on a good solid shiny covered picture book with maps, walks, directions and bunches of glossy touristy photos. It just feels right. In record time I managed to find two perfect books that I just had to have. No problem there. As I approached the counter, I was grateful that there was only one person in front of me. Well, make that one family that happened to be making one simple purchase. With a gift card. And a clerk on the phone. And only one clerk on duty. And a computer system that was down. Five minutes later, with about 10 more patrons, credit cards in hand, jockeying for the next available clerk, over the speaker comes an plea for a "visual receipt specialist." A middle aged woman, pencil balanced over one ear and yellowed receipt book in hand, announces she will take the next customer who happens to have cash. Huh? Cash? What's that?