Life is but a dream...

I found the greatest craft store over the weekend. It was huuuuge, and not too far away, in a nearby small suburb. They had everything there for everything you could imagine. They even had a floral section of live, seasonal plants (instead of the generic stuff you find in the supermarket) for super cheap. Perhaps the absolute best part was the antiques section of this craft mart. Genuine old stuff and not replicas simply for decorative purposes--mason jars, old sleds, cookware, books, you name it and it was in this antiques section.

They even had this great program they were running. You sign up for a discount card and get 10% off your purchases. Spend more money at the store and your discount level goes up. Since I loved this place I figured it was a win-win. The cashier told me I couldn't sign up for the card and get the discount on the same day, which seemed odd but ok, whatever. She then told me that to 'test' the card I needed a minimum purchase amount, so I should go get something else. I wanted a hera marker for quilt marking, but they didn't have that (OK - so they didn't have everything you could imagine then, but close to it) so I perused the antiques section and found a red and white polka dot mug (I've wanted one forever and couldn't find one anywhere), all the while singing "Leaving on a Jet Plane." Why that song? I don't know...

So far, so good, right? Except for the singing. But I swear it sounded really good. So I go to check out and the cashier is gone. She had told me to leave my things with her while I went for my hera marker, and they were gone too. Panic set in. I went to customer service and tried to talk to the rep. Another lady came over and said "Excuse me, but you've already spoken to her today" as though her time was so valuable you needed an appointment. I found someone to help me locate my things and was getting all set to pay and leave, when a parade happened by. When I tell you every employee ran outside in excitement I'm not kidding. And it was just your basic local high school kind of parade. Very random and weird.

At this point I was really frustrated. All I'm trying to do is get out of the store, and I'm swearing that I'll never go back even though they have an awesome selection and that nifty discount. I'm just THAT annoyed. You know what happened then? Charlie started barking and I woke up. Yeah, all that up there took place in a dream. And it was the kind of dream where you wake up angry, even though the injustice done unto you was not only imaginary, it was un(sub?)consciously imaginery.

And I'm glad it WAS a dream for a few reasons. First, I was a bit concerned that I had just left my purse with a total stranger. Second, I didn't like that I didn't challenge the customer service gods who could only be seen by appointment. Third, I wouldn't have signed up for a discount I couldn't use right away because that just sounds so stupid. Fourth, running outside for a parade in the middle of a sale isn't really professional.

However....I do really wish that red and white polka dot mug was real. And that I could sing. Because I can't. Wouldn't it be nice to be confident enough in your excellent singing to belt out a few tunes while you're shopping? Not for other shoppers, but more for yourself...

Obviously I need to get out more. Much more.