Did you hear the headline on the news about the woman who was newly transplanted to North Carolina and went apeshit in the local Goodwill, throwing wicker chairs through the glass doors?
Well, there's only one reason you didn't hear about it. That same woman summoned the last bit of self control she had stored away after spending two weeks listening to people talk like this and like this.
Looking back on it now, I don't know what came over me. Sure, I understand why my blood pressure reached "fried food every night" level, but what possessed me to want a wicker set? What am I? Some kind of Southern Belle sitting in a satin, pink, poofy gown on my front porch? Do I have buckets of sweet tea sitting at the ready for the much anticipated time when a gentleman caller arrives?
Yes, I have a wrap around porch on my house. It's of majestic proportions. Feet upon feet of space dying to be embellished with wicker and rocking chairs. However, at heart I am a wrought iron kind of girl who found herself at Goodwill thinking "Wicker! I love wicker!" when I laid eyes on a 3 piece set.
All the love left my body about 2 minutes later when I asked the manager if he would assist me in carrying the loveseat out to my truck to see if it would fit before I paid for it.
"Ma'am...I am afraid I can't do that"
Turns out that Goodwill's policy of spreading Goodwill stops at the door. He informed me that I had 3 days to pick up the merchandise after I paid for it, so don't worry if it doesn't fit in the truck. Yes, of course! I see your reasoning! If this loveseat doesn't fit today, I can try again tomorrow! Golly, that'd be fun. I can taste the Heinz 57 sense of anticipation when I roll up in front of the brick building, 3 days in a row, only to leave minutes later, totally defeated when Surprise! The loveseat still doesn't fit!
Not one to give up without a fight, I don my mental boxing gloves and tell the man that today is the only day I have to pick up this set of wicker.
"Ma'am...(ohmygod this is such a long pause please speak!)..I can help you carry the items to your vehicle if you sign a release stating that I am not responsible if something happens to your items once they enter the parking lot."
I glance outside and see 2 elderly women with Blueblockers making their way across the lot and a young mom with way too many kids. 300 feet away two cars sit at a traffic signal.
"I'll take my chances, give me the form!"
"Welllll........Ma'aaaaaaammmmm...you are not allowed to sign the form until the merchandise is paid for"
Inside my head a tiny bell dings, signifying the beginning of another round of mental fancy footwork.
"Okay, so I have to stand in line, pay for the items, sign the release form and then you will help me carry the items out to my truck ( I can lift the two chairs just fine, but the loveseat is way too big for one person to lift) and if the loveseat doesn't fit at that point in time, I have to bring it back inside the store, get back in line and return the items?"
He pauses for another second and says,
"We don't accept returns"